23
Ciana
The momentthe door shut behind Bain, I was out of bed and snooping.
From what little I’d seen of the house, it was huge. And beautiful. So damn beautiful, under different circumstances, I might have even wanted to live there. When I’d thought he was Torin, Bain had told me he owned two castles, and I had to assume this was one of them. He’d carried me for a good five minutes through the place before even reaching what he’d called our bedroom.
He was out of his mind if he thought I was willingly going to share anything but parenthood with him.
The room was huge and I didn’t know how long he would be gone, so I figured I needed to check everything out in a hurry. I opened the nightstand drawers first. Inside one were two gun clips, full of bullets, but no gun. Of course he wouldn’t leave a weapon lying around. Smart of him, really, because I didn’t honestly know if I would have killed him or not.
I wanted to. Fuck, I wanted to. The memory of Bennie falling to the floor, blood gushing out of his leg like a geyser, would haunt me forever. Then to see Vito take a bullet to the shoulder…
But I also had three babies to worry about. What would I tell them once they were old enough to start asking questions about their father? How would I look them in the eyes and tell them I killed the man who had helped me create them?
Along with the gun clips, I found a flashlight but nothing else, so I moved on to the closet.
The thing was twice as big as my closet at home and could have easily been another bedroom. Only about a fourth of it held Bain’s clothes. Suit jackets, dress shirts, slacks, ties, and shoes. Even his underwear and socks were neatly folded on a shelf beside his where his ties were hung. The rest were all things I would have chosen for myself before I’d gotten pregnant. Designer dresses, shoes, and an assortment of other clothes that all still had the price tags on them. As I picked up one of the tags, I realized they were maternity clothes.
What the fuck? It would have taken weeks to get these if they’d been ordered online, which was what I suspected. I couldn’t picture Bain or even one of his henchmen going into any of the shops these clothes were sold in to purchase them. Did that mean Sheena hadn’t told him? Had he actually known I was pregnant…?
In the center of the room was an island of drawers, and one side was nothing but bras and panties, some of which were for a nursing mother. Another side was jewelry. Earrings, necklaces, and bracelets sat on beds of velvet, glittering under the glare of the overhead lighting. Diamonds, sapphires, emeralds, the selection was infinite and so exquisitely beautiful, I couldn’t help but touch a few of the pieces.
On the other side of the island, I found handbags, a few of which I had at home. My heart did an odd little flip in my chest, because they were my favorite purses. Bain must have seen me carrying them often enough to realize how much I liked them and…
I quickly stomped the brakes on that line of thinking. Bain wouldn’t have seen me with those bags personally. Maybe one of his henchmen had seen me with them, and when Bain told him to get me things I would like, the guy had picked them out. Yeah, that made so much more sense.
A safe was built into the fourth side of the island. It had a keypad and a touch screen that looked like it needed a fingerprint to go with the code. I figured there were guns and cash in there, but I didn’t have the brainpower to try to break in to it.
Sighing, I left the closet and walked into the bathroom. “Oh shit,” I muttered to myself as I crossed to the tub and touched the rim longingly. The damn thing could have fit six of Bain in it with ease. I could have swum in it if I wanted to. My aching muscles screamed for me to get in and take a soak, but Darcy had advised me not to do more than shower until the blisters healed.
With a sad sigh, I walked over to the double sink and opened the medicine cabinet. I found tubes of the cream like the ones Darcy had given me for my burns, as well as multiple bottles of what looked like my prenatal vitamins. But that couldn’t be right. My prenatals had extra folic acid and iron in them, so they were prescription, not the typical over-the-counter ones. These were just bottles that looked similar, I told myself as I shifted my gaze to the rest of the shelves’ contents. Tylenol and a few other items that were normal to find in a bathroom were the only other items.
The drawers and the towel cupboard didn’t reveal anything unusual either, but I kept going back to the medicine cabinet to look at the medication bottles. Muttering a curse, I finally picked up one of them, my curiosity getting the better of me.
When I read the prescription details, I had to reach out to hold on to the side of the sink as the world grew dark around the edges. They really were my prenatal vitamins. Enough bottles to see me through the rest of my pregnancy since they each held a ninety-day supply.
But the most disturbing part of it all was that the only way he could have gotten the prescription was if Darcy had given it to him. Bain could have easily gotten another doctor or nurse practitioner to prescribe what he needed for me. But the label had Darcy’s name on it. Unless he’d stolen her prescription pad, these had come directly from her.
A feeling of betrayal like I’d never experienced before hit me in the chest, and I dropped the bottle as so many things began to make a sick kind of sense all of a sudden.
My birth control shot being ineffective. Darcy’s financial situation seeming to change overnight. Bain knowing that the babies were girls.
Of course.
I’d been so blind. So stupidly trusting.
I’d thought Darcy was my friend, but now I knew she’d just been Bain’s spy.
“I know everything that concerns you.”
His cryptic comment made sense. Of course he knew everything that concerned me. Darcy must have been feeding him every last detail. Until Sheena had abducted me, no one but Darcy knew anything about my pregnancy.
Her money troubles had stopped weeks, maybe even months before my vacation. She could have sabotaged my birth control shot with ease because she’d always been the one to administer it to me.
“Oh my God,” I whispered as I locked eyes with my reflection in the mirror, remembering the clothes in the closet. “Did he plan to get me pregnant all along?”
With shaking fingers, I touched my belly and felt one of the babies kick against my hand. From the ultrasounds, we’d determined there were three different sacs, which meant three separate eggs had been fertilized. I hadn’t questioned it at the time, but I should have. Ovulating two eggs at the same time wasn’t unheard of—that was how fraternal twins were conceived, after all—but more than two would typically require help.
Such as one of the fertility drugs that Alan prescribed many of his patients.
Drugs Darcy could have easily gotten her hands on.
But when Alan prescribed those medications, he always monitored them, and when more than one egg came into play, he normally advised patients not to try to conceive that month because of the risks that came with having multiples.
The world around me began to spin as I remembered Darcy convincing me to add a new “vitamin” to my daily routine.
I was a nurse, for fuck’s sake. I should have questioned the pill instead of taking her at her word that it was a vitamin. I should have…
I slapped my hands against the top of the sink so hard they stung. “Idiot!” I raged at my reflection. “You stupid, idiotic girl! You know better than to trust anyone. Why did you trust her with what you put in your body?”
Tears burned my eyes as the betrayal hit me again. How could Darcy do this to me? She, more than anyone, knew what we had to see day after day at work. The danger babies were put in when a mother was pregnant with multiples, the stress a woman had to go through during the months she carried more than one life within her.
And yet, she’d still taken the chance, played roulette with my reproductive system and made sure I was fertile for the man footing the bill for all of her debt. How much had Bain paid her to make sure I was ripe in time for my vacation?
I was beyond pissed at Bain as I saw everything with clear eyes. I was going to destroy him for what he’d done. But it was Darcy I wanted to kill. She knew the dangers, the risks my babies would be in with each passing week of my pregnancy. Not only was she a woman—and women should always protect one another, damn it—but she was a fellow medical professional. She had known what she was doing, and as long as the price was right—which apparently it had been—she hadn’t cared what happened to me or my potential children.
Sucking in a few deep breaths, I waited for my vision to clear. I’d wanted to kill people before—Sheena was definitely at the top of that list—but at that moment, Darcy was tied for first place. “Greedy, despicable cunt,” I hissed as I turned away from my reflection.
Picking up the vitamin bottle, I stormed through the bathroom, out of the bedroom, and down the hall in search of Bain. I’d deal with him first, and then when I was done, I’d find a way to get my hands on Darcy.
No men were walking the halls like they did back at the Vitucci compound, but I’d seen the men on the wall as we’d driven up to the house. The place was like a fortress. No one was getting in without an invite. Which meant leaving wouldn’t be an easy feat either, but I’d worry about that later.
I had no idea where Bain had gone. He’d mentioned bringing me something to drink and a snack, but from the way his two friends had spoken, I assumed he had some business that required his personal attention.
A shudder went down my back at the memory of his one friend, Declan. I couldn’t explain my reaction to him, but I knew deep in my gut that he was…evil. The other guy, Conor, I didn’t get a good enough read on, but his vibes hadn’t been blaring a warning in my head to get as far away from him as possible, unlike with Declan.
Pushing away thoughts of either man, I started opening doors as soon as I got to the first floor. My anger made me reckless, throwing doors open with enough force that they would sometimes slam against the wall. The loudness echoed through the castle, alerting anyone to my presence.
Opening the next door, I stepped in and paused when I saw the baseball bat hanging on the wall over a classic mahogany desk. A few books about the Boston Red Sox, signed baseballs in glass display cases, and several jerseys were displayed to the left of the desk. As I walked closer, I saw a picture of an obvious teenage version of Bain with a man who couldn’t have been anyone but his father.
Frowning, I picked up the framed photo. Father and son looked so much alike it almost brought a smile to my lips. The senior O’Farrell had darker blond hair than his son, but their eyes were nearly identical, and their smiles were infectious. Both of them wore Boston Red Sox jackets and ball caps. They each had an arm tossed around the other’s shoulder, and the obvious happiness shining out of their eyes made my heart give a little clench as I traced their similar facial features with my thumb.
Dropping the photo back onto the desk, I took another look around the room. The jerseys were so old, they didn’t have names on the back, just numbers. One of them didn’t even have a number on it, which told me it must have been from before 1916, because according to my brothers, who didn’t know calculus but knew every single detail about baseball history, numbers weren’t added to jerseys until June of 1916.
Another bat was on the bottom shelf of the display case, but unlike the one on the wall over the desk, it wasn’t protected by a glass case. Bending, I picked it up to examine it. No signature, but there must have been some reason that particular bat was included with the other memorabilia.
Shrugging, I turned away from the display case, my fingers clenching around the end as I made a few practice swings. I might not know who Number 9’s jersey belonged to, but Ryan had taught me how to swing a bat just as he had how to punch someone without breaking my hand. It wasn’t a gun like I would have preferred, but it was still a weapon.