[Dawn]
“You’re what?” Andre repeats, his voice full of disbelief and a hint of panic.
“Pregnant.”
Andre’s eyes widen, and his eyebrows furrow in confusion, as if trying to process the information. His expression is a mix of shock and something else I can’t quite place. “When did this happen?”
“It doesn’t matter when this happened. Just get the damn phone and sheers.”
The men continue talking, their voices loud and carefree, an irritating contrast to the storm raging inside me. Andre glances at them quickly, his eyes flicking back and forth like a cornered animal.
His tongue darts out, licking his lips like a lizard, before he carefully inches towards the desk, putting light weight on his injured foot. Each movement is measured, like he’s trying not to draw attention to himself.
He reaches up, his fingers brushing the edge of the desk, and after a moment of hesitation, he grabs the phone.
The men pause.
Something is happening outside, the shift in the air noticeable even to them. The conversation drops to murmurs, their words slipping into Russian, and I catch the mention of another name.
It’s probably the people who’ve been trailing Aldo and Luca.
They resume talking, louder now, and Andre immediately takes the opportunity to fire off a quick text, his fingers moving with practiced haste. His body stiffens when he glances up at the men.
The tension is palpable, and I can feel the moment stretching out, a single breath away from disaster.
The man by the door looks back at us, his gaze flicking between the two of us, but then he turns again, his focus on whatever is going on outside. He doesn’t notice. Not yet.
“Andre, the phone…” I whisper urgently.
But it’s too late. The man whips his head around, his eyes locking onto Andre. He yells something unintelligible, his voice a harsh bark, and then he barrels into the room, his boots pounding against the concrete.
I don’t think. I act.
I pitch myself forward, my body colliding with his as he enters, knocking him off balance. His surprise gives me just enough time. We both stumble, but I can feel the shift,
the sudden crash of weight and force. We pitch to the side, and Andre is on top of us before the man can react.
The other two men charge towards the door, but then I see it-the headlights, cutting through the dimness outside.
Aldo is already here.
Ilya and the other man freeze, their heads snapping towards the door. The tension crackles in the air as they turn on their heels, pulling out guns with practiced speed.
They race for the car lights, but before they can make it, there’s a deafening sound. An explosion rips through the silence, followed by the metallic scream of breaking glass.
The ground shakes beneath me, and I can feel the force in my bones.
But I can’t focus on that. The big man falls on top of me, his body like a crushing weight, his back pressing down, pinning me to the ground.
I arch inward, trying to shield the baby, the sharp pain of pressure digging into my ribs. My arms are trapped, the seat belt digging into my chest, and I can barely breathe.
I scream, the sound ripping out of me, raw and desperate.