by W Winters
“I promise,” I answer wholeheartedly. It seems hollow in my chest though. Something’s wrong. I can feel it. As if I may not be here. My heart ticks and then thuds. “Seth,” I say and close my eyes, ready to tell him.
“I mean it, Laura. I want to have stability. I can run the bar; I can be here more. I’ll be a good dad.”
There’s so much hope in his voice and it’s more than soothing, it’s addictive. Just the idea of him holding our baby... I want to hear him say it again and again. My breath stills and I lean forward, capturing his lips with mine and surprising myself as much as him.
He smiles when he whispers, “That’s my girl.”
After telling me to go to bed, he says he loves me again. I love hearing it. For years I pretended he’d say it, and now I have it. I make sure the last thing he hears before he leaves is, “I love you too.”
I can’t bring myself to get off the sofa, but the room has a chill. So I search for a throw, but Seth doesn’t have one. I decide I should hire movers tomorrow as I stare at the flowers on the coffee table that obstruct my view of the fire. The first batch I received are beautiful. The size of the bouquet is ridiculous. But damn are they beautiful. There’s a mix of white and pink flowers but what really makes it are the pale blue velvet leaves. I keep wanting to touch them. They’re soft and feminine and smell divine. They’re the only feminine touch in this place.
I’m busy tallying a list in my head of everything to do tomorrow so I can square it away and make a new list for the baby when I drift off, my hand on my stomach.
Sleep doesn’t last long though, because of my phone ringing. I leave it out in the kitchen so I can sleep easy and of course I’d fall asleep here, early in the morning to be woken up at 7:00 a.m. I hustle to the phone charging on the counter and nearly trip from my sleep-induced gracelessness.
“Hello?” I answer it after taking a deep breath. It’s the hospital. No more waiting. It’s time to move forward.
As she speaks, I keep my eyes closed. “Miss Roth, it’s Doctor Tabor?”
“Yes, I remember,” I say and my voice is even and calm. “I apologize for leaving so abruptly. I—” Before I can spit out an excuse, she stops me.
“This is not my first time, Miss Roth. I understand it can be a lot to take on. I do have to stress though, that decisions need to be made. You are very high on the list and without the transplant, I’m not sure you’d be able to successfully deliver.”
“So I need a C-section?”
“Yes, we can schedule one for eighteen weeks from now, but if a heart becomes available before then—”
“Eighteen weeks? I’m sorry, but no.” I’m suddenly very awake. My hand on my belly, I start pacing and ask, “How could we deliver him so early?” I only catch that I say him after I’ve said it. The baby could be a her, but those semantics aren’t important right now. Eighteen weeks? My baby would die. “I can’t be more than a month along,” I stress, swallowing harshly and waiting for an answer in the silence.
“You are far more than a month along, Miss Roth.” The doctor is so sure of herself and I find myself shaking my head, my eyes closed as I brace myself against the counter.
“Due to the high levels of hormones, we estimate that you’re roughly twenty weeks pregnant given the results from your initial blood taken. We could have confirmed it with an ultrasound, but since you left, we were able to confirm with the additional blood drawn at your last visit. The hormones confirm it. Roughly twenty weeks pregnant. I do need that ultrasound though, Miss Roth.”
“Twenty weeks,” I barely speak.
“I assure you, at thirty-eight weeks pregnant, your baby will be healthy. What I need to know is what the protocol will be if a heart is available before then, and Miss Roth, I need to give you my professional opinion. You should accept the heart.”
The memories come back in a rush, starting with the missed appointment. The phone call from Bethany about her sister. “I was on my way in, but a friend needed me.” That was months ago. Five months ago. I missed my birth control appointment five months ago. Next month I would have gotten the alert for the six-month shot. How could I have been so reckless?
I feel faint. I’ve only been with Seth for a handful of weeks. Almost a month.
“Twenty weeks?” I speak louder and again the doctor keeps talking. She doesn’t understand apparently that I can’t listen, I can’t even think straight, let alone comprehend what she’s saying. Twenty weeks is five months pregnant.
Conception happened before Seth.
Oh my God.
The baby isn’t Seth’s.
“I can’t breathe.”
Seth and Laura’s story isn’t over just yet. Their story concludes with Easy to Fall.
Click HERE to read Easy to Fall.
There are many moving parts in this whole world. If you haven’t read Carter’s saga, starting with Merciless, I highly suggest you do that now. His story is just as intense and a tale that will stay with me forever. I hope these words stay with you as well. Keep reading for a sneak peek!
Here’s to love stories keeping our hearts beating.
The timeline of the Merciless world is as follows:
Sebastian’s story: A Kiss to Tell, A Kiss To Keep (an extended epilogue)
Daniel’s story: Possessive
Carter’s story: The Merciless Series (Merciless, Heartless, Breathless , Endless )
Jase’s story: Irresistible Attraction Trilogy (A Single Glance, A Single Kiss & A Single Touch)
Seth’s story: Hard to Love, Desperate to Touch, Tempted to Kiss & Easy to Fall
Marcus’ story: Coming Summer 2020
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Sneak Peek at Merciless
From USA Today bestselling author W Winters comes a heart-wrenching, edge-of-your-seat gripping, romantic suspense.
I should’ve known she would ruin me the moment I saw her.
Women like her are made to destroy men like me.
I couldn’t resist her though.
Given to me to start a war; I was too eager to accept.
But I didn’t know what she’d do to me. That she would change everything.
She sees through me in a way no one else ever has.
Her innocence and vulnerability make me weak for her and I hate it.
I know better than to give in to temptation.
A ruthless man doesn’t let a soul close to him.
A cold-hearted man doesn’t risk anything for anyone.
A powerful man with a beautiful woman at his mercy … he doesn’t fall for her.
Chapter 1
Carter
War is coming.
It’s something I’ve known for over two years.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
My jaw ticks in time with the skin over my knuckles turning white as my fist clenches tighter. The tension in my stiff shoulders rises and I have to remind myself to breathe in deep and let the strain of it all go away.
Tick. Tock. It’s the only sound echoing off the walls of my office and with each passing of the pendulum the anger grows.
It’s always like this before I go to a meet. This one in particular sends a thrill through my blood, the adrenaline pumping harder with each passing minute.
My gaze moves from the grandfather clock in my office to the shelves next to it and then beneath them to the box made of mahogany and steel. It’s only three feet deep and tall and six feet long. It blends into the right wall of my office, surrounded by polished bookshelves that carry an aroma of old books.
I paid more than I should have simply to put on d
isplay. All any of this is a façade. People’s perceptions are their reality. And so I paint the picture they need to see so I can use them as I see fit. The expensive books and paintings, polished furniture made of rare wood… All of it is bullshit.
Except for the box. The story that came with it will stay with me forever. In all of the years, it’s the one of the few memories that I can pin point as a defining moment. The box never leaves me.
The words from the man who gave it to me are still as clear as is the memory of his pale green eyes, glassed over as he told me his story.
About how it kept him safe when he was a child. He told me how his mother had shoved him in it to protect him.
I swallow thickly, feeling my throat tighten and the cord in my neck strain with the memory. He painted the picture so well.
He told me how he clung to his mother seeing how panicked she was. But he did as he was told, he stayed quiet in the safe box and could only listen while the men murdered his mother.
It was the story he gave me with the box he offered to barter for his life. And it reminded me of my own mother telling me goodbye before she passed.
Yes, his story was touching, but the defining moment is when I put the gun to his head and pulled the trigger regardless.
He tried to steal from me and then pay me with a box as if the money he laundered was a debt or a loan. William was good at stealing, at telling stories, but the fucker was a dumb prick.
I didn’t get to where I am by playing nicely and being weak. That day I took the box that saved him as a reminder of who I was. Who I needed to be.
I made sure that box has been within my sight for every meeting I’ve had in this office. It’s a reminder for me so I can stare at it in this god forsaken room as I make deal after deal with criminal after criminal and collect wealth and power like the dusty old books on these shelves.
It cost me a fortune to get this office exactly how I wanted. But if it were to burn down, I could buy it all over again.
Everything except for that box.
“You really think they’re going through with it?” I hear Daniel, my brother, before I see him. The memories fade in an instant and my heart beat races faster than the tick tock of that fucking clock.
It takes a second for me to be conscious of my facial expression, to relax it and let go of the anger before I can raise my gaze to his.
“With the war and the deal? You think he’ll go through with it?” he clarifies.
A small huff leaves me, accompanied by a smirk, “He wants this more than anything else,” I answer him.
Daniel stalks into the room slowly, the heavy door to my office closing with a soft kick of his heel before he comes to stand across from me.
“And you’re sure you want to be right in the middle of it?”
I lick my lower lip and stand from my desk, stretching as I do and turning my gaze to the window in my office. I can hear Daniel walking around the desk as I lean against it and cross my arms.
“We won’t be in the middle of it. It’ll be the two of them, our territory is close, but we can stay back.”
“Bullshit. He wants you to fight with him and he’s going to start this war tonight and you know it.”
I nod slowly, the smell of Romano’s cigars filling my lungs at the memory of him.
“There’s still time to call it off,” Daniel says and it makes my brow pinch and place a crease on my forehead. He can’t be that naïve.
It’s the first time I’ve really looked at him since he’s been back. He spent years away. And every fucking day I fought for what we have. He’s gone soft. Or maybe it’s Addison that’s turned him into the man standing in front of me.
“This war has to happen.” My words are final and the tone is one not to be questioned. I may have grown this business on fear and anger. Each step forward followed by the hollow sound of a body dropping behind me, but that’s not how it started. Y can’t build an empire with blood stained hands and not expect death to follow you.
His dark eyes narrow as he pushes off the desk and moves closer to the window, his gaze flickering between me and the meticulously maintained garden stories below us.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” his voice is low and I barely hear it. He doesn’t look back at me and a chill flows down my arms and the back of my neck as I take in his stern expression.
It takes me back years ago. Back to when we had a choice and chose wrong.
When whether or not we wanted to go through with it meant something.
“There are men to the left of us,” I tell him as I step forward and close the distance between us. “There are men to the right. There is no possible outcome where we don’t pick a side.”
He nods once and slides his thumb across the stubble on his chin before looking back at me. “And the girl?” he asks me, his eyes piercing into mine and reminding me that both of us survived, both of us fought, and each of us has a tragic path that led us to where we are today.
“Aria?” I dare to speak her name and the sound of my smooth voice seems to linger in the space between us. I don’t wait for him to acknowledge me, or her rather.
“She has no choice.” My voice tightens as I say the words.
Clearing my throat, I lean my palms against the window, feeling the frigid fall beneath my hands and leaning forward to see Addison beneath us, Daniel’s Addison. “What do you think they would have done to Addison if they’d succeeded in taking her?”
His jaw hardens but he doesn’t answer my question. Instead he replies, “We don’t know who it was who tried to take her from me.”
I shrug as if it’s semantics and not at all relevant. “Still. Women aren’t meant to be touched, but they went for Addison first.”
“That doesn’t make it right,” Daniel says with indignation in his tone.
“Isn’t it better she come to us?” My head tilts as I question him and this time he takes a moment to respond.
“She’s not one of us. Not like Addison and you know what Romano expects you to do with her.”
“Yes, the daughter of the enemy…” My heart beats hard in my chest, and the steady rhythm reminds me of the ticking of the clock. “I know exactly what he wants me to do with her.”
Click here to keep reading Merciless!
Sneak Peek at Forget Me Not
I fell in love with a boy a long time ago. I was only a small girl. Scared and frightened, I was taken from my home and held against my will. His father hurt me, but he protected me and kept me safe as best he could.
Until I left him.
I ran the first chance I got and even though I knew he wasn’t behind me, I didn’t stop. The branches lashed out at me, punishing me for leaving him in the hands of a monster.
I’ve never felt such guilt in my life.
Although I survived, the boy was never found. I prayed for him to be safe. I dreamed he’d be alright and come back to me. Even as a young girl I knew I loved him, but I betrayed him.
Twenty years later, all my wishes came true.
But the boy came back a man. With a grip strong enough to keep me close and a look in his eyes that warned me to never dare leave him again. I was his to keep, after all.
Twenty years after leaving one hell, I entered another. Our tale was only just getting started.
It’s dark and twisted.
But that doesn’t make it any less of what it is.
A love story. Our love story.
Prologue
Robin
I can wait here longer than he can stand to stay away. I know that much.
A small grin pulls at my lips as I pick at the thread on the comforter. Always picking and waiting. There’s nothing else to do in this room.
My head lifts at the thought, drawing my eyes to the blinking red light. And he’s always watching. The sight of the camera makes my stomach churn, but only for a moment.
The sound of heavy boot steps walking down the stairs outside the closed door makes my he
art race. I stare at the doorknob, willing it to turn and bring him to me.
I’ve waited too long for him.
The sound of the door opening is foreboding. If anyone other than me was waiting for him, I’d assume they’d have terror in their hearts. But I know him. I understand it all. The pain, the guilt. I know firsthand what it’s like when the monster is gone and you only have your own thoughts to fight. Your memories and regrets. It’s all-consuming.
And there’s no one who can understand you. No one you trust, whose words you can believe are genuine and not just disguised pity.
But he knows me, and I know him. Far too well; our pain is shared.
His broad shoulders fill the doorway and his dark eyes meet mine instantly. He barely touches the door and it closes behind him with a loud click that’s only a hair softer than my wildly beating heart.
It’s hard to swallow, but I do. And I ignore the heat, the quickened breath. I push it all down as he walks toward me, closing the space with one heavy step at a time.
He stops in front of me, but doesn’t hesitate to cup my chin in his large hand and I lean into his comforting touch. I know to keep my own hands down though and I grip the comforter instead of him.
It’s a violent pain that rips through me, knowing how scarred he is. So much so, that I have to hold back everything. I’m afraid of my words, my touch. He’s so close to being broken beyond repair and I only want to save him, but I don’t know how.
We’re both damaged, but the tortured soul in front of me makes me feel everything. He makes me want to live and heal his tormented soul. But how can I, when I’m the one who broke him by running away?
