The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 407

Chapter 200-1

Becca

The key rattles violently against the brass lock, sliding twice off the cold metal before my slick, shaking fingers manage to jam it home.

I throw my weight against the front door, stumbling inside, and slam it shut behind me. The deadbolt turns with a click, but the sound brings zero comfort. It feels like locking a cardboard shield against an oncoming hurricane.

I collapse back against the painted wood, my chest heaving, gasping for air that feels far too thin for my lungs.

The house is dead quiet. It’s freezing, dark, and empty.

No lights on. No fire in the grate. Just the hollow, sterile smell of my clean hardwood floors and expensive scented candles, now smelling like a pristine mausoleum.

“God… oh God… oh Jesus…” I sob aloud, the pathetic sound tearing out of my throat as I shove myself off the door and hurry toward the bedroom.

My hands are trembling so badly I can barely drag the dark leather duffel bag out from the top of the closet. I hurl it onto the bed, unzipping it with a jagged jerk that nearly tears the teeth out of the fabric. I grab armfuls of clothes indiscriminately – sweaters, jeans, silk blouses, anything within arm’s reach – and shove them into the cavernous bag.

Knox is dead.

The image flashes across my mind with blinding, sickening clarity: Knox lying in the warehouse, two gaping, bloody holes punched clean through his chest. Vane standing over him with that ice-cold, silver pistol.

The quiet, terrifying execution of the man who promised me everything.

He’s dead. He’s dead, and I left him there in his own blood.

I didn’t stop. The second Vane walked out, I didn’t think. I didn’t scream. I just turned and ran out the side door, tearing through the snow, slipping in the mud, throwing myself into my car and driving until my knuckles turned blue on the wheel.

Knox was supposed to be my ticket out. He was supposed to get the money from Cobra and Locke. He was supposed to take care of me. He was supposed to build a life with me, buy us a place far away from this godforsaken city.

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Chapter 200 1

Now Knox is a corpse rotting in an abandoned warehouse, and my safety net is ash.

They will come for me. I know how this world works.

Vane will clean up his loose ends so nothing ties back to his syndicate, or Locke and Mayhem will hunt me down like a dog for my part in bringing Zara into that fucking

warehouse.

+23 Points

The Grinning Skulls don’t forgive, and Locke… Locke will tear my throat out with his bare hands if Zara has a single mark on her skin.

“Think, Becca, think!” I scream at myself, tears blinding me as I scramble over to the nightstand, yanking the drawer out so hard it falls off its tracks, spilling contents across the floor. “Jesus fuck!”

I drop to my knees, scrambling through the clutter – cash, passport, a spare key, a small

velvet box –

A sudden, violent spasm rips through my lower abdomen.

I double over instantly, gasping for air, the air cutting out of my lungs in a sharp, agonizing wheeze. My hands fly to my stomach, clutching at my waist as a deep, terrifying cramp coils around my guts like a red-hot iron wire, pulling so tight I hear a choked groan escape my own lips.

“No…” I whisper, the word laced with sudden, cold dread. “No, no, no…”

I stay on my knees on the floor, waiting for the cramp to pass, but it doesn’t pass. It sharpens, radiating outward.

Seven months.

I am seven months pregnant.

I drag myself up off the floor using the bedframe, my legs shaking so violently they barely support me. I stumble down the dark hallway toward the bathroom, reaching out to steady myself against the cold drywall, leaving faint, sweaty smears behind.

I push the bathroom door open, flicking the light switch up. The bright, stark fluorescent light floods the room, blindingly white against the sleek marble tiles.

I reach down, my hands shaking so hard I can barely unzip my maternity pants, pulling them down.