Henri frowned. “Which one?”
Killian canted his head. “I work for all of you, Henri. I won’t betray the trust of one to another. You’d fire me yourself if I did. This guard was reluctant to say anything, but brought it to me because Tec-Sec is charged with protecting the entire Sauveterre family. We take that responsibility very seriously.”
“Ramon has an illegitimate child somewhere,” Henri deduced, and was struck by something he rarely felt, but it was most acute if it happened to involve his brother. Ramon had something he wanted.
He didn’t want children, though. He didn’t want the responsibility. He had decided that long ago.
Nevertheless, the idea of his brother becoming a father seared his bloodstream with envy so sharp it felt like pure acid.
Then he heard Killian say, “I would take that up with Ramon, wouldn’t I?”
Henri’s mind blanked as it tried to recalibrate.
There was no humor in Killian’s face, no judgment, no emotion whatsoever. He was a master at hiding his feelings, which was one of the reasons Henri liked working with him. Their dealings were always straightforward and unsentimental.
“One of the girls?” he said, hazarding a guess. It was impossible in Trella’s case. There had been that one night three months ago, when she’d slipped out in public as Angelique. She’d been photographed kissing a man—a prince, no less—but she had sworn to Henri that’s all that had happened.
Gili was tangled up with a prince of her own, had even taken off into the desert overnight with Kasim while they’d all been in Zhamair for Sadiq’s wedding. He’d had a message this morning to say that things were back on, but hadn’t had a chance to catch up with her about it.
Even if she was back with Kasim, Gili was so cautious he couldn’t imagine her failing to take steps to prevent a pregnancy. She would definitely make arrangements to protect her child if she did happen to fall pregnant. Killian wouldn’t have to bring it up with Henri. Same went for Trella, for that matter.
Which had to mean...
“You can’t mean me,” Henri said dismissively. “Cinnia is the only woman I’ve been with—”
He ran straight into it like he was in one of Ramon’s high-performance race cars and hadn’t seen the big, red, tightly stacked, rough-edged bricks cemented into a giant wall that had arrived right in front of his nose.
I didn’t ask if you wanted to marry me. I asked if you loved me.
And the reason you’re asking is because you want to change things between us. I told you I’d never marry you.
He’d been taken aback that morning three months ago, not having seen that conversation coming, either. They were comfortable as they were. He’d grown quietly furious as she had put him on the spot with her “do you love me?”
He couldn’t. Too much was at stake.
From there, the separation had unfolded like surgery without anesthetic. He’d endured it with stoicism so he wouldn’t betray how much he begrudged her not being content with what they had. That’s all he could offer her. She knew that. He had to accept it. Why couldn’t she?
I would say that things have already changed, but they really haven’t. I’ve always wanted children. You said when I was ready to start a family, you would let me go. Are you going to keep your word?
Of course. He didn’t make promises he wouldn’t keep.
They had parted with as much civility as possible. Hell, he’d left the flat and come back a week after she was packed and gone. He hadn’t looked her up on social media. There was no point. She rarely posted and the last thing he needed was to see whom she was dating in her quest to marry and procreate.
Now he knew she wasn’t dating anyone.
Because she was having his child.
It couldn’t be true. Couldn’t. She would have told him.
Unless...
The next thought that followed was a screamingly jagged “was it even his?”
Of course it was. It had to be. Killian wouldn’t have brought this news to him otherwise and Henri couldn’t imagine... Didn’t want to imagine... No. Cinnia was highly independent, stubborn to a fault and honest. She would not sneak around having affairs behind his back. When would she have found the time? One way or another, they had shared a bed most nights and while she had been extremely passionate between the sheets, she had never been promiscuous.
No, if she was pregnant, the baby was his.
But how? She knew he didn’t want children. On that point he had been blunt, so what the hell had happened? Had she stopped taking her pill? Was this pregnancy deliberate?
Did she not realize how dangerous that was?
From the moment the responsibility of protecting his family had become his, he had felt as though a Russian roulette gun was pressed to his head. The mere suggestion he had a child on the way slid an extra bullet into one of its chambers. She wouldn’t put that on him. Would she?