The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 397

Chapter 194-2

“You touch this baby, Knox, Tsay. “And Locke will skin you alive while you’re still breathing.”

Knox laughs in my face, shoving my chin back so hard my neck clicks. “He has to find us first.”

Becca’s eyes glow with an unhinged, predatory energy. The fragile, desperate woman has vanished, replaced by someone drunk on the immediate intoxication of my exposure. She steps in closer, her boots stopping inches from my bound feet. She reaches out, her fingers digging harshly into the fabric over my stomach.

I instantly snap my weight back, straining against the heavy plastic zip–ties, a low, guttural warning rising in my throat.

“Touch me again, you fucking bitch, and I’ll tear your throat out with my teeth.”

Becca flinches back at my raw, feral tone, but then her cruel smile only widens.

“Look at her guarding it,” she coos, turning to Knox. “She really thinks she’s going to be a mother. She thinks she gets to have the family, the luxury, the whole protected life while we’re hiding in dark holes, scrabbling for money.”

“Not for long,” Knox mutters, stepping beside Becca.

He looks down at my stomach, his eyes dark, calculating, and heavy with a sickening new leverage. He doesn’t see a human life; he sees a vault key. He sees the absolute subjugation of the Grinning Skulls.

“Locke fucking my wife was going to cost him millions of dollars,” Knox says. “But Locke’s child in danger? That’s worth the whole fucking club. Every man is going to give me everything he has.”

“Locke is going to suffer,” Becca whispers, her voice trembling with euphoria. “When he sees what we have… when he sees her bleeding on camera…”

“We aren’t bleeding her out yet,” Knox interrupts, though his tone lacks any hint of mercy. “We keep her intact enough to make the bastard pay. Every mark on her face is proof to Locke that I mean business, but I need her breathing. I need that pulse beating so he stays on his knees.”

Willow’s frantic choking sounds fill the silence from the shadows. The two guards are visibly unnerved now, shifting their weight, their hands resting heavy on their sidearms.

“Let them burn it!” Knox screams at him. “Let them throw everything they have at us! They don’t move a single inch without my permission now. I own Locke. I own Cobra. I hold their entire fucking bloodline in the palm of my hand.”

He turns back to me, extending his arm and bringing his phone right up to my face. The bright screen reflects off the slick blood on my chin.

“Look at the camera.” Knox orders, his thumb hovering over the recording icon. “Look straight into the lens. I want Lucke to see every drop of blood on your face, see every bruise blooming. I want him to see how small you look in that chair. And then I’m going to tell him exactly what happens to his baby if he doesn’t set every cent he has at my feet.”

Becca walks over to Knox, resting her hand on his arm, her eyes fixed on my face with a triumphant leer. “Let’s record the video now, Knox. Show Locke his little whore. Show him what we’re going to break if he doesn’t give us everything”

“Oh, I’m going to give him a real show.”

I sit rigid in the folding chair, absolutely overcome with terror. I tune out Willow’s weeping, tune out Knox’s gloating, and focus entirely on the cold, undeniable math of the room.

Knox: thinks he holds total leverage now. He thinks the pregnancy makes me weak.

He doesn’t understand that a mother with a child to protect is the most dangerous thing in this building.

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