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“Her fire.” He takes my hand, holding it between both of his, and I notice the ring on his finger.

It’s similar to the one Leo carries around with him, but the setting is latticed rather than scrolled. The onyx stone is round instead of square.

“Hold on to it. Don’t ever lose it or forget it. It’s who you are.”

“Yeah, well, if Casper was alive, he’d feel my fire burn his fucking gonads. This is a fucking super plan, isn’t it? Send the pregnant fugitive into the middle of nowhere when she’s going to drop…” Another frisson of pain goes through me, halting my tirade.

Lucian sighs exasperatedly. “God fucking help us all, you could’ve gotten your mother’s mouth.”

My door is yanked open, the cool breeze chilling the warmth of the car. Ryan’s eyes flash between Lucian and me, assessing our closeness.

“We probably shouldn’t keep them waiting.” He stands back, holding out his hand to help me out of the car.

I take it the minute my sight sets at the top of the grand staircase and I see them for the first time. They’re watching me, as I am watching them.

“I thought the Spanish were meant to be all nice and smiley,” I murmur under my breath.

“How many smiles did Deadshot give you?”

I pause, holding him still at the bottom step. “Why would you call him that now?”

“It’s what we called him.” He shrugs like it’s whatever, but something about it seems odd.

“You’ve never called Casper that in front of me. To me. Why now?”

“Stop procrastinating.” His retort is blasé and forced all at once, not to mention that he’s not meeting my gaze.

Maybe Ryan’s right and I’m trying to find something to drag this out because the apprehension inside me is making me question my decision to go along with this plan.

Is being held hostage here any better than being held prisoner back home?

They’re probably looking at me and wondering what their grandson was thinking when he put a baby inside me. It wasn’t exactly deliberate, but still…of all the potential out there, he ended up with me. The daughter of a rogue minister that fucked over everyone and everything he was meant to care about.

“Casper did smile at me, I’ll have you know,” I tell him, realising too late that the thought of his smile and not seeing it again is deflating the fire talk Lucian gave me in the car.

I hate admitting it, but having him here is kind of nice. I don’t really know the man, and what I know of him isn’t exactly promising, however, he’s another link to the people I’ve left behind. The people I love, even if they want to make me pay for something my father did. And sometimes he says things and does things that almost make it seem that he cares for me.

It’s stupid and desperate. The comfort I get from knowing he loved Mum is wholly naïve. Whimsical really. But it’s hopeful, and I have nothing left if not hope. Hope of waking up from this with Casper holding me.

The sensible voice in my head tells me I should wish to go back to the very beginning, but I can’t. I would still leave everything behind with him. I have no regrets when it comes to Casper and our girl. I wouldn’t change anything, except letting him leave me that night. And I would tell him I love him. I would tell him he’s everything I’ll ever need.

Focusing on his grandparents, I take a deep breath. They’re both tall, and from this angle they look majestic. As imposing and courtly as their castle.

“I really wish I’d paid more attention in Spanish class.”

I start up the steps with Lucian following behind us. I think he’s doing it in case I fall flat on my arse. My balance at present isn’t quite what it used to be. Not to mention that my body hasn’t fully recovered from our ambush earlier.

“Believe me, they speak English well enough.”

“You know them?” I look over my shoulder at him, holding on to Ryan’s arm so I don’t go tits over arse. Or rather head over belly.

“They’re good people. I wouldn’t have brought you here otherwise.” Lucian winks at me, and I feel it then, that blaze he was talking about. Even the defiance Casper wrote me. They flame inside me, licking away at the emptiness and the ache.

I need to be strong for you. I wrap my arm around my bump, trying to hold it up so that hopefully the pressure will ease. It’s going to be you and me. My only duty is to you, ma petite fille.

I’m making the same promises Mum used to make me—Ce sera toujours toi et moi, ma petite fleur.

The difference is that I will keep them. I will do everything it takes to be there for my daughter. I’m young. I have many years left. And I intend on spending them with her.

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