Chapter 9 - The Reckoning on the Pier
The footsteps approached rapidly, heavy and unsteady against the cracked concrete.
Julian lowered his rifle, stepping back into the shadows of the container to give us room, his mission of extraction successfully concluded.
Cassian rounded the corner, his chest heaving, his expensive dress shirt soaked with rain and sweat, his eyes wild and desperate.
When he saw me sitting on the ground, wrapped in the wool blanket with my hands clutched over my belly, his knees visibly buckled.
He fell to his knees in the grease and grime of the pier, reaching out trembling hands toward me, yet stopping inches away as if terrified that I was an apparition that would vanish if he touched me.
“Eloan…” he sobbed, the sound raw and broken, coming from the depths of a man who had never once wept in public. “Oh God… Eloan…”
I looked at him through the tangled strands of my wet hair.
This was the billionaire titan of Chicago. The man who dictated terms to governors and moved markets with a single signature.
Here he was, kneeling in the oil and sea salt, his face streaked with tears and rain, reduced to nothing more than a terrified husband who had looked into the abyss of his own failures.
“You left,” I whispered, my voice cracked and hoarse. “I told you our baby was growing inside me, and you walked out the door for her.”
“I was a fool,” Cassian wept, dropping his forehead against the hem of my wool blanket. “I was blind, Eloan. I let guilt and pride poison my judgment. Sabine was working with Vance the entire time. She tried to destroy you… she tried to kill our baby…”
He lifted his head, his hazel eyes bloodshot and pleading with an agony so profound it took my breath away.
“If you never want to see my face again, I will sign whatever divorce settlement you want,” he choked out. “I will give you every asset, every property, every dollar I own. But please… please let me keep you safe. Don't let me lose you because of my own stupidity.”
I looked down at his bowed head, feeling the faint, gentle flutter beneath my ribs—the quiet stirring of our child, alive, protected, and whole.
I had spent six years waiting for him to choose me.
And here, in the cold mud of a Kenosha coal terminal, surrounded by the wreckage of his arrogance, he had finally made his choice.
He hadn't chosen me because it was convenient, or because it maintained his public image.
He had burned his world to the ground just to reach my side.
I slowly reached out my trembling hand, resting my cold fingers against his damp cheek.
May you like
Cassian let out a ragged, gasping sob, leaning into my touch as if my bare palm were the only thing keeping him tethered to the living earth.
“Take us home, Cassian,” I murmured softly.
