Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 79462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
I feel Iris tense beside me, her fingers tightening around mine.
I give her hand a reassuring squeeze as the nurse sets up the equipment.
"This won't take long," the nurse assures us, lifting Iris's hospital gown to expose her still-flat stomach. "We just want to make sure everything's still looking good after yesterday's... incident."
I clench my jaw at the euphemism but say nothing.
The nurse squirts gel onto Iris's abdomen and starts moving the wand around.
The room fills with a rapid whooshing sound—our baby's heartbeat.
"Strong and steady," the nurse comments, her eyes on the screen. "Heart rate is excellent, and everything else looks perfect. You've got a fighter in there."
Relief washes over me. "Just like their mama," I murmur, pressing a kiss to Iris's temple.
The nurse finishes up, wiping the gel off Iris's stomach. "Any questions?"
I shake my head, and Iris remains silent.
The nurse gives us another smile before leaving, closing the door softly behind her.
I turn to Iris, studying her face. She's staring at the ceiling, her expression unreadable.
"Hey," I say softly, reaching out to cup her cheek. "You okay?"
She blinks, focusing on me. "Yeah, I just... it's a lot to take in."
I nod, understanding. It's been a whirlwind 24 hours. "I know, baby. But we're in this together, okay?"
"Listen," I say, pulling back slightly to look into her eyes. "I know this isn't how either of us planned things. But I promise you, Iris, I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure this kid has the best life possible. We're not our parents. We can do better."
Her lower lip trembles, and suddenly she's sobbing, her whole body shaking.
I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close to my chest.
The scent of her shampoo fills my nostrils as I press my lips to the top of her head.
"Shh, it's okay," I murmur, stroking her back. "I've got you."
I feel her fingers gripping my shirt, clinging to me like I'm her lifeline.
In this moment, I swear to myself that I'll be whatever she needs me to be— protector, lover, father to our child.
Another soft knock at the door breaks the moment. Rosa pokes her head in, a plastic bag in her hand. "Hey, I brought some Thai," she says softly, her eyes darting between Iris and me.
I give Iris one last squeeze before pulling away. "Look at that, baby. Rosa brought you some of that food you love."
Iris sniffles, wiping her eyes. "Thanks, Rosa," she says, her voice hoarse.
I stand up, smoothing down my shirt. "Why don't you enjoy some time with Rosa? I've got something I need to handle."
Iris's voice, tinged with worry, stops me in my tracks. "What are you doing, Viper?"
I turn back, meeting her eyes.
The fear I see there makes my chest tighten, but I can't let her know the truth.
Not now. "The less you know, the better, sweetheart," I say, trying to keep my tone light. "Trust me on this one."
I cross the room in two quick strides, cupping her face in my hands.
I kiss her deeply, pouring all my love and determination into it.
When I pull back, I rest my forehead against hers. "I love you, Iris. More than anything."
Her fingers grip my shirt, not wanting to let go. "I love you too," she whispers.
With a heavy heart, I step away and head for the door.
I pause, looking at Rosa. "We good?"
Rosa's eyes are hard, but I see understanding there too. "As long as you don't hurt her, we're good."
I nod, my jaw clenching. "I'd rather die."
The hospital corridor is a blur as I stride toward the exit, my mind already racing with what's to come.
My driver, Jake, is waiting by the car, his face impassive as always.
"Where to, boss?" he asks as I slide into the backseat.
"Crimson Reapers clubhouse," I growl, checking my gun beneath my jacket. "And step on it."
As we pull away from the hospital, I can feel the rage building inside me.
I'm showing up unannounced, and I don't give a flying fuck.
All I can think about is Iris, lying in that hospital bed, carrying our child.
I'll do whatever it takes to keep them safe.
The streets fly by outside the window, but I barely notice.
My mind is consumed with thoughts of Lyon, that piece of shit who dared to touch what's mine.
I flex my fingers, itching to wrap them around his throat.
"Almost there, boss," Jake's voice cuts through my thoughts.
I nod, steeling myself for what's to come.
The gun at my side is a comforting weight, a reminder of the power I hold.
Whatever happens next, I'm ready.
For Iris.
For our future.
And for the twisted satisfaction of making Lyon pay.
The car pulls up to a rundown building on the outskirts of town, two towns over from Tinsel Creek.
The Crimson Reapers' clubhouse stands before me, a testament to lawlessness.
A row of gleaming motorcycles lines the front, their chrome catching the light.