Page 103 of Claimed By the Ruthless King

“Safe but pissed.” I flash Salvatore a sidelong glare. “After everything we’ve been through, you want to go back to being strangers. I don’t want that. I want to explore us.”

Salvatore glances at me for a brief second, his electric green eyes flashing in the morning sun. “I can’t be what you need, sweetheart.”

“You’re everything I need. Stop being a stoic ass. Don’t be another person who walks away from me out of guilt.”

Salvatore studies me intently, one eye on the traffic, the other veering over to me.

“You’re still afraid to let love in.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Love is simple. Humans make it complicated, with their ultra-high walls and their what ifs. It’s easier to protect yourself than to surrender and let love in.”

Salvatore clenches his jaw, looking ahead.

High-rises materialize, sunlight bouncing off the glass.

August is a month of transition, people preparing for the new season ahead.

I watch dark clouds move in the sky, surrendering to the sun. The temperature will be dropping soon, the nights drawing in. I don’t want to spend another winter alone in my apartment missing my mother, reminiscing on old memories. I want to create new ones.

And I have a chance to create something new.

I smooth a hand over my lower abdomen, my stomach lurching as I think about possibly being pregnant with Salvatore’s child.

How the fuck do I tell him?

“You feeling okay?” asks Salvatore, glancing at my stomach.

“Fine.” I remove my hand before he catches on. I need to confirm this pregnancy before I tell him.

Salvatore swings into the hospital parking lot, activating the parking brake. He shoots out of the car, popping open the back seat door.

While he deals with his cousin, I rush into the reception and ask the nurses to bring out a stretcher.

“What happened?” Sapphire searches my face, concern lined between her brow. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you. You look like you’ve been⁠—”

“I’m fine.”

Sapphire doesn’t look convinced, grabbing my wrists.

I wince, the pain still relatively fresh. She examines the redness around my wrists, searching my eyes.

I’m apparently a very open book.

“You were tied up.”

“Yes, and not in the good way.”

“Phee, this is serious.”

Wheels collide with the ground as the nurses bring in Robert.

We both glance at Robert, exchanging a look.

I pull her aside, away from the main walkway in reception. “David is dead,” I mutter under my breath. “He was the one rebuilding the Crows.”

“Salvatore killed him?”