“I want what I’ve always wanted, Vincent. For you to secure your place as my successor. f**k knows you’ve made it harder than it needed to be.” He turns to face me, his silver hair catching the light. “But now, it seems, you’ve found a way to do that which I hadn’t anticipated.”
I study his face, searching for the trap. “I thought this wasn’t a lecture?”
He sighs. His exhale ghosts the windowpane. “I specifically warned you against her. And yet you persisted.” He takes another sip of his drink. “She’s carrying your child. The next Akopov. My grandchild.”
The way he says it—my grandchild—sends a chill down my spine. As if the baby already belongs to him rather than to Rowan and me.
The way you feel is the same way she felt, you f*****g fool, sneers a voice in my head. You called it your
