chapter Nine
709 Words
Zara’s small blue car screeched to a halt beside the curb, and before the engine even finished rumbling, she was already pushing the door open and running toward Fiona.
“Baby girl…” Zara murmured, gathering Fiona into her arms.
Fiona clung to her like a lifeline, her entire body trembling. Zara held her tighter, one hand stroking her hair, the other rubbing circles on her back.
“Come on, let’s get you in the car. You’re freezing.”
Once inside, Zara cranked up the heater and turned to face her fully. Fiona’s eyes were red and swollen, mascara smeared like a bruise beneath her lashes.
Zara cupped Fiona’s cheeks gently.
“Talk to me.”
Fiona swallowed hard. “Zara… I can’t breathe. My mom—she’s marrying Adrian Valerio”
Zara blinked. “Okay, rich man, big house, pretty sure he’s on a magazine cover every other month. Continue.”
“And he—he has a son.”
“Oh God,” Zara whispered, already sensing it. “Fiona…”
Fiona nodded, shaking. “It’s him.”
Zara stared. “As in *him* him?”
Fiona nodded again, tears spilling over. “Alistair…”
Zara slapped a hand over her mouth. “Jesus. Christ. This is not a plot twist—this is a full-season finale!”
Fiona let out a pained laugh, collapsing back into the seat.
Zara reached for her hand. “Hey, listen to me. Yes, this is insane. Yes, life is unhinged. But you’re not alone. I’m with you, okay? Every step.”
Fiona squeezed her hand gratefully.
But then Zara’s expression softened, deeper and calmer. “And Fiona… does he know? About the baby?”
Fiona shook her head fast. “No. And he can’t. Not now.”
Zara didn’t argue. She only squeezed her fingers tighter.
“Okay then. We protect you first.”
*******"************************
In his penthouse, Alistair pulled a leather duffel from his closet, methodically packing weapons, files, and two crisp suits. There was no rush in his movements—only precision.
But his mind was far from calm.
Each time he folded a shirt, a memory flashed:
Fiona’s soft gasp.
Her fingers gripping his shoulders.
The way she had looked at him like he was both danger and salvation.
He had walked away that night because he didn’t do attachments.
Because pleasure meant nothing in his world.
But something about her had stayed.
Now she was going to be under his roof.
Untouchable.
Off limits.
His father’s soon-to-be stepdaughter.
Alistair zipped the duffel shut, jaw clenched.
Fine.
He would meet her again.
He would confirm whether it was her or just a coincidence.
And then he would bury whatever the hell this feeling was.
He always buried things.
Deep.
*********************************
Zara drove slowly, glancing at Fiona every few seconds.
“Are you cramping? Are you dizzy?”
“Just… overwhelmed.”
Zara hesitated.
“Fiona… you need to be careful with stress. It’s not just you now.”
Fiona placed a hand on her belly unconsciously. “I know.”
Zara chewed her lip. “What are you going to do when he shows up?”
Fiona stared out the window, eyes empty.
“I don’t know.”
Zara reached over and squeezed her knee. “You will when the moment comes. You’re stronger than you think.”
But Fiona didn’t feel strong.
She felt like a storm waiting to break.
ALISTAIR’S ARRIVAL AT THE VALERIO ESTATE
Hours later, long after Fiona had fallen asleep in Zara’s apartment, a black SUV rolled into the Valerio estate.
Alistair stepped out, tall and shadowed by the night. The house lights glowed warmly, but nothing about the moment felt warm.
A housekeeper approached. “Welcome home, sir. Mr. Valerio is waiting inside.”
Alistair nodded, but his pulse thrummed.
Because the moment he stepped through the doors, he sensed it—
a faint, familiar softness in the air.
Something that didn’t belong here before.
Fiona.
Somewhere in these halls, she existed.
Breathing.
Living.
Unaware he was finally back.
Alistair’s jaw tightened.
Tomorrow, they would meet again.
Three months after that night.
Three months after he walked away.
And he had no idea the consequences of that night were growing inside
- Writer
