Chapter 11
Night settled over the city, quiet and heavy.
Adrian Graham lay beside Zoe Young as usual, his hand mindlessly tracing the slight swell of her belly.
“Landon“, she murmured, toying with the buttons of his uniform, her fingers ghosting over his collarbone, “who do you think the baby will look like?”
“Doesn’t matter.” His voice was rough, and yet he couldn’t help picturing the flick of Liana Langston’s skirt as she danced in Swan Lake.
If the child were theirs, a daughter would have her lively almond–shaped eyes. A son would inherit her stubborn streak.
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He’d teach their daughter to write, take their son to the range, and pour all the love he owed Liana into the next generation.
The thought softened his sharp features.
Sensing an opening, Zoe leaned in, her nightgown strap slipping off her shoulder. “The doctor said… after three months, we
can…”
Her warm breath grazed his throat.
Adrian grabbed her wandering hand.
This farce should’ve ended the moment she got pregnant.
He’d stayed by her side day and night, not out of love–but out of duty to protect what little blood his brother had left behind.
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“Go to sleep.” He pulled the blanket over her, turning away and feigning a cough to hide his body’s betrayal. “Your condition’s still unstable.”
But Zoe, like melted syrup, wouldn’t let go.
“Landon…”
She whispered, nipping at his earlobe as she guided his hand to her barely swollen stomach. “The doctor said it’s safe now…”
“Honey, I want you…”
That word–honey–struck him like a bullet to the temple, jolting Adrian Graham awake in an instant.
Right. He was Landon Graham now.
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The grieving brother. The one the family leaned on. Zoe Young’s legal husband.
As far as the records were concerned, Adrian Graham was a dead man, his name etched in stone in the national cemeteries.
He suddenly shoved her down into the mattress, his movements rough–like punishing himself.
He cupped her chin with one hand and bit down, while the other hand guarded her belly with fierce protectiveness.
Zoe whimpered like a kitten, digging her nails. into his back until they drew blood.
Outside, the storm raged, thunder cracking the sky. He yanked the blanket over them as lightning lit the room.
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10 90
ps heir shadows danced wildly on the wall like
grotesque puppets.
919V
19
190
NS
His chiseled back rose and fell, the motion knocking the wedding photo off the nightstand–revealing Landon Graham’s face
on the front.
As dawn broke, Adrian gently pulled his numb arm from under Zoe’s body.
Clothes from last night lay scattered across the floor.
He got up, expressionless, and dressed in a crisp, clean uniform.
Raindrops still clung to the metal of the public phone booth.
Beep–beep-
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The dial tone stabbed at his nerves like a dull
blade.
It had been a full day. Liana Langston should’ve cooled off by now.
“Hello?” came Richard Langston’s hoarse voice, breaking through the line.
“Dad, it’s me–Landon.” The word slipped out instinctively, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. “Has Liana arrived yet?”
The sharp sound of ceramic shattering rang out through the receiver.
“Don’t call me that. You’re just my dead son–in–law’s older brother,” Richard Langston snapped, his breathing suddenly ragged. “Why are you calling?”
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