Bonds

Chapter 17

-Maya’s POV-

“You don’t have to say it back,” he rushed on, his voice attempting to mask the vulnerability I saw reflected in his eyes. “And maybe I shouldn’t have been so hasty. I just… can’t hide how I feel. You’re an amazing woman, Amaya, and…”

He trailed off, searching my face, and a wave of panic washed over me. I couldn’t let him get any closer, not emotionally, not physically.

“I have kids,” the words tumbled out in a rush, escaping my control before I could stop them.

He blinked, a flicker of confusion replacing the affection in his eyes. “What?”

I could almost hear my father’s voice, a chilling echo in the back of my head, warning me against this very moment.

“Two of them,” I blurted out, my voice ragged. “Twins. And I didn’t… I mean, my father didn’t want me to tell you. But I don’t want to lie to you anymore,

Ivan.”

Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. He just stared at me, his expression unreadable. The longer he remained silent, the heavier the weight of my confession became.

“Ivan? Please, say something.”

Then, a flicker of something dark crossed his features. Anpor? Hurt? Whatever it was, sent a shiver down my spine.

“How long were you going to keep it a secret?” His voice was low, laced with a dangerous edge. “Wait, that’s not even the question I should be asking. Who is the father?”

My mouth gaped open and closed like a fish out of water. No words came out, no justifications, no explanations.

Frustration flared in his eyes, quickly replaced by a chilling resignation. He let out a humorless scoff “Fine,” he muttered, the single word heavy with disappointment.

He turned away, his broad shoulders slumped in defeat, “I trust you can find your way back to wherever you go to hide your lies,” he said, his voice cold

and distant.

“Ivan, please!”

of the room. As he reached the doorway, a sliver of fear flickered within me. “Are you ending

“I’m not. But I need time. Time to process this.” He paused again, his gaze lingering on me for a

door, leaving me alone in the darkness with

step echoing the turmoil within. Stealing a deep, shaky breath, I opted against calling a cab. Walking,

streets pulsed with a frenetic energy as 1 walked. My destination remained unknown, my mind consumed by the fallout that awaited me. My father’s face, twisted with fury, flashed through my thoughts,

my ears and without realizing it, my

84%

Chapter 17

stare at

The Rusty Compass.

comforting scent of stale beer and well-worn leather. The low murmur of conversation hung in the air, punctuated by the occasional clinking of glasses. A lone young woman stood behind the bar, her auburn hair cascading down her shoulders in fiery waves. Her face, etched with the lines of experience, held a warmth that belied the

a double

up, lingering on my face for a beat longer than necessary. Her eyes, the color of melted chocolate, held

her gaze night?”

coursing through me. “The roughest of them

then three and before I realized, I was spilling my guts to a complete

listened patiently, her expression a mask of quiet understanding. When I finished, a heavy silence settled

through a swinging door, their laughter grating in the previously subdued atmosphere. One of them, a man with a shaved head and a gold chain glinting around his neck,

your strongest stuff, sweetheart,” he barked at Riley, his gaze leering. “And

clenched, and a flicker of defiance sparked in her hazel, “I’m sorry but there are no drinks available.

and your gunes.”

the newcomer clanked as he slammed his fist on the counter, the force rattling the glasses behind

“You are

has its rules. Bikers aren’t allowed in here. I’m pretty sure you

moved closer until he was in Riley’s face, “Again Lask. What are you

edge of the barstool, the weight of the situation pressing down

calm despite the churning in my stomach, “Maybe

you to tell us what to do?” The man sneered, his gaze flickering to me with undisguised hostility. “This ain’t your business, lady. I suggest you stay

deep breath, “it kind of is. This is a decent place, and causing trouble isn’t exactly

across his face. “This some kind of joke, sweetheart? You think

a man let out a guttural laugh. “Yeah, maybe she