SASHA’S POV
The ride home was suffocatingly quiet, the kind of silence that screamed louder than words. I stared out the window, watching the city lights blur into streaks of color, my thoughts spiraling in every direction.
I stole glances at my father now and then, his stoic expression giving away nothing, though his grip on the steering wheel was a little too firm.
I’d thought tonight might bring some clarity. Maybe not peace, but at least a sense of direction. Instead, I was left more confused than ever.
His earlier comments about Sebastian’s world, the shadows that seemed to follow us everywhere, and now… the baby. It was too much to process.
When we finally pulled into the driveway, the engine’s hum cut off abruptly, leaving an even heavier silence in its wake.
I reached for the door handle, eager to escape the car and my thoughts, but my father’s voice stopped me cold.
“Don’t tell him,” he said, his tone low but unyielding.
I froze, my hand hovering over the handle. “What?” I turned to him, disbelief coursing through me.
He sighed, leaning back in his seat as if the weight of the conversation had physically pressed him down. “The baby,” he clarified. “Don’t tell Sebastian about the baby.”
I stared at him, stunned. For a moment, I thought I’d misheard. “You… you want me to keep this from him?” My voice wavered, disbelief giving way to anger.
“Why would you even suggest something like that?”
His eyes met mine, weary yet resolute. “Because it’s what’s best for the child,” he said simply. “Sebastian’s world is no place for an innocent baby. You know that as well as I do.”
The air seemed to leave my lungs. “Dad,” I said slowly, my voice trembling, “this is Sebastian’s child too. He has a right to know.”
“And what will that change?” he shot back, his voice hardening. “Do you think he’ll walk away from the life he’s built? From the danger that comes with it? Sasha, I know you love him, but love doesn’t erase reality.”
“That man has a target on his back. If you bring a child into his world, so will that baby.”
His words hit me like a blow, shattering the fragile hope I’d been clinging to. I wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong, but deep down, I knew there was truth in what he was saying.
I’d seen the dangers firsthand, felt the weight of Sebastian’s enemies lurking just out of sight. But the thought of hiding this from him felt just as wrong.
“I’ve been thinking about how to tell him since the moment I found out,” I whispered, more to myself than to him.
He reached out, his hand resting gently on mine. “I’m not saying this to hurt you,” he said softly.
“I’m saying it because I care about you and that child. You deserve peace, Sasha. Your baby deserves a life without fear. Can Sebastian give you that?”
I pulled my hand back, my chest tightening with a mix of anger and heartbreak. “It’s not that simple,” I said, my voice cracking.
“Sebastian isn’t just… dangerous. He’s kind and protective. He’s the man I love.”
“And that’s why this is so hard,” my father said, his voice tinged with sorrow.
“I’m not asking you to stop loving him. I’m asking you to think about the baby. Do you want to raise a child constantly looking over your shoulder? In a world where enemies might use them to hurt their father?”
Tears blurred my vision as I pushed open the car door and stepped into the cool night air. My father followed as I walked up the path to the house, his words echoing in my mind.
Inside, I sank onto the couch, burying my face in my hands. “I don’t know what to do,” I admitted, my voice muffled and broken.
He sat beside me, his hand resting on my shoulder. “Take some time to think,” he said gently. “But promise me, don’t rush into telling him. Think about the baby first.”
I nodded numbly, though my heart screamed against the idea of keeping something so monumental from Sebastian.
As I sat there, lost in thought, my phone vibrated on the coffee table. The name on the screen made my stomach twist.
Roland.
I hesitated, glancing at my father before answering. “Hello?” I said, my voice steadier than I felt.
“Sasha,” Roland’s voice came through tense and urgent. “I need to talk to you. It’s important.”
“What is it?” I asked, sitting up straighter.
“Not over the phone,” he replied. “I’m sending a car for you. Be ready.”
“Now?”
“Yes,” he said firmly. “Now.”
I ended the call and stood, grabbing my coat.
“What’s going on?” my father asked, his concern evident.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I need to find out.”
He rose as well. “Do you want me to come with you?”
“No,” I said quickly. “I’ll be fine. Roland wouldn’t call unless it was serious.”
He frowned but nodded. “Be careful.”
“I will,” I promised, giving him a quick hug before stepping into the night.
As I waited for the car, my mind raced with questions. What could Roland want? And how was I supposed to make sense of everything my father had said?
One thing was certain-whatever lay ahead, it was bound to change everything.