CHAPTER 56
BRENDA'S POV
The look of adoration on Christian's face when I told him our child's middle name felt soul-reviving. The way he looked at me, like I had grown another head, was strangely lovely.
Out of everything, I loved how he looked at our daughter—like nothing else in this world mattered except her.
And honestly… nothing did.
It had been three days since I was discharged from the hospital. I was healing well, and Cyril was always around whenever I needed medical attention.
Lucinda and Eva had also been around more, which was a relief because it gave me people to talk to. Lucinda still had a stick up her ass, but overall, she was a lovely person.
And Christian?
He was always in Saint's nursery. Always with his little girl.
He had practically abandoned me and now spent most of his time with her. At night, he even slept on the floor next to her crib.
I never thought my life would turn out this… magnificent.
Almost like a fairytale.
One that had no end.
THREE MONTHS LATER
The flight of stairs felt endless as I slowly made my way down, wiping my eyes and yawning.
When I woke up, Saint wasn't there.
Probably already with her father.
"Morning, sleeping beauty!" Christian hurried over to help me down the stairs.
Not that I couldn't walk down by myself.
"What are you wearing?" I chuckled, pulling slightly away from his embrace.
He glanced down at the apron wrapped around him, now smeared with flour.
"It's an apron. I'm cooking breakfast!"
He walked back to the kitchen counter and placed a kiss on Saint's forehead.
Dough covered most of her tiny face.
Clearly, she had been helping her father destroy the kitchen.
Don't get me wrong—Christian was a great cook.
I scooped my baby girl into my arms. She smiled for a second before frowning and squirming, pushing herself away from me like I had interrupted something important.
I was slowly getting used to the fact that Saint preferred her father over me.
Not that I was complaining because when she cried in the middle of the night, guess who could calm her down?
Exactly.
I placed her back in her chair, and she immediately resumed her important work.
I sat down and gulped a cup of juice.
Christian soon placed a plate of bacon, eggs, and pancakes drenched in maple syrup in front of me.
I took one bite and couldn't stop the moan that escaped me.
God.
His food was divine.
Like tasting a piece of heaven.
"That good, huh?" he chuckled.
"Always," I replied, my eyes still closed.
"Did she—"
"Yes, I bathed her, but I think she'll need another one," he answered before I could finish.
Saint had managed to cover herself in dough again.
"I was thinking—"
BLAST!
An ear-splitting sound hurled me across the room.
A painful ringing filled my ears.
Smoke.
Everywhere.
"Don't you fucking touch her!" I heard Christian shout.
Then—
A gunshot.
My senses were all over the place until Saint's piercing cry cut through everything.
My eyes shot open.
The smoke had begun to clear.
My gaze darted around the room—
Then landed on Christian.
Lying motionless in a pool of blood.
"No…"
The word barely left my lips.
I refused to believe what I was seeing.
My world stopped.
I kicked and fought against the hands trying to drag me up. Somehow, I overpowered them and crawled toward him.
I pulled his upper body into my lap.
"No… no, you can't go!" I sobbed, clutching him tightly. "Please come back to me!"
My screams tore through me as grief consumed every inch of my body.
For one minute—
One cruel minute—
They let me mourn him.
Then they pulled me away.
"Let me go!" I screamed, thrashing. "Get your hands off me!"
"Shhh," a familiar voice said calmly. "You're scaring our baby."
Out of the sea of armed men stepped Daemonikai.
Kai.
Saint rested in his arms.
Something ugly twisted in my stomach.
I struggled harder, but the men held me down.
"Kai, let my daughter go, you sick fuck!" I spat.
"Lucinda!" I shouted desperately. "Lucinda!"
Though deep down, I already knew.
No one would have gotten this far without dealing with her first.
They forced me onto my knees, two men gripping my arms.
Kai sat in front of me, Saint resting comfortably against him while I fought every urge not to rip him apart with my bare hands.
The way he looked at her made me sick.
"You know," he sighed, glancing between Saint and me, "she could've been ours."
My stomach dropped.
"Our daughter."
He shook his head.
"But you had to go and fuck the damn enemy."
His jaw tightened.
"Andrea and her would've been sisters. Blake would've taken care of them."
He gave a bitter laugh.
"But alas."
I had no idea who Andrea or Blake were.
And frankly, I didn't care.
All I wanted—
All I needed—
Was my daughter back.
Kai gave a small nod to the men behind me.
Before I could react, a sharp sting pierced my neck.
"No—"
My vision blurred.
Voices turned distant.
The room melted around me.
And then—
Darkness.