Chapter 243
(Connor’s POV)
The black hood was ripped from my head, leaving me blinking in the harsh light of an unfamiliar room. My wrists burned against
the restraints binding me to a metal chair.
“What the hell is this?” I growled, struggling against the ropes.
Two burly security guards stood silently by the door, their expressions impassive. The room was sparsely furnished–concrete
walls, a single table, and the chair I was tied to. It reeked of power and money.
The door swung open, and my blood ran cold as Olivia Winters walked in, followed by a tall man with piercing gray eyes. Lucas
Blackwood. The Alpha of Moonstone Pack.
“What do you want to do to me? Olivia Winters, murder is against the law!” I shouted defensively, renewing my struggle against
the restraints.
Olivia’s emerald eyes regarded me coldly. “If I wanted you dead, Connor, you wouldn’t be sitting here having this conversation.”
Fear clawed at my throat. Two years in prison had taught me to recognize danger, and these two radiated it. I was a dead man
walking.
“Is this about the brakes?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. “Because I served my time for that.”
Victoria’s face flashed in my mind–her beautiful features twisted with tears as she begged me to protect her and Emma from
Olivia Winters. “She’s trying to destroy us,” Victoria had sobbed. “She wants to take Emma away from me.”
I’d believed her completely. Loved her completely.
“She redirected Lily’s kidney donor,” Victoria had confessed one night, her voice barely a whisper. “Not for Emma’s sake, but to
eliminate Olivia as a threat.”
Even then, I’d known Victoria was lying about her motives. The kidney had been for Emma–I’d seen the medical records myself.
But I didn’t care. I loved Victoria. I loved Emma. I would have done anything for them.
So I’d sabotaged Olivia’s brakes. Not enough to kill her–just enough to scare her, to keep her away from Victoria and Emma.
But now Olivia was back from near death, and the look in her eyes told me she hadn’t forgotten.
“This isn’t about the brakes,” Olivia said quietly. “This is about Emma.”
My heart stuttered. “Emma? What about her? If you’ve hurt her, I swear to God-”
Lucas Blackwood stepped forward, his gray eyes flashing with dominance. “You’re not in a position to make threats.”
I spat at his feet. “Go to hell.”
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His boot connected with my chest, sending me and the chair crashing to the floor. Pain exploded through my ribs as I gasped for
breath.
“Pick him up,” Lucas ordered his men.
Rough hands hauled me upright, the chair scraping against concrete. Blood trickled from my split lip.
Olivia approached, pulling something from a folder. “Do you recognize these?”
She laid several photographs on the table before me. My breath caught in my throat.
They were pictures of me watching Emma at Crescent Moon Training Den. Emma at the mall with Dorothy. Emma playing in the
yard at Rosewood Haven.
“Been stalking me, have you?” I sneered, trying to mask my panic. How had they known I was watching Emma?
“Emma is your daughter,” Olivia stated flatly.
The words hit me like another kick to the chest. I forced a laugh, though it sounded hollow even to my own ears.
“That’s ridiculous,” I scoffed. “Emma is Ethan Stone’s daughter. Everyone knows that.”
“Is she?” Olivia raised an eyebrow, pulling out another document. “This Blood Heritage Confirmation Report says otherwise.”
My eyes darted to the paper, heart hammering against my ribs. I’d suspected for years, of course. The timing of Victoria’s
pregnancy, the way Emma’s eyes mirrored my own. I’d even managed to get a DNA test done secretly during one of my visits to
Rosewood Haven.
I knew the truth. But I’d never admitted it aloud–not even to myself.
“This is bullshit,” I muttered, but my voice lacked conviction.
Lucas leaned in, his face inches from mine. “Your scent changes when you lie. It’s quite telling.‘
I glared at him, then at Olivia. “Even if she is mine–which I’m not saying–what’s your point? Why drag me here to tell me
something I can’t do anything about from prison?”
“You’re not in prison anymore,” Olivia reminded me. “Thanks to me.”
That was the part I still couldn’t figure out. Why had Olivia Winters, the woman I’d tried to kill, advocated for my release?
“If you hurt Emma,” I growled, parental instinct surging through me despite years of separation, “I will make you pay with my
dying breath.”
Olivia’s expression softened slightly. “I would never harm a child, Connor. Unlike some people we know.”
