She glances briefly at Judge again, and then back to me. "After the poisoning, when you mentioned Abel, and the pieces started falling into place, I was following him. I wanted to see how he was involved. And there were a few times I followed him to a storage unit. I figured there must be something in it. A reason he'd keep going back there. So, I broke into it."

Judge and I are both glowering at her when he speaks up.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

"I had to see for myself," she bites out. "It could have been nothing. But it wasn't."

"What was in the storage unit?" I ask.

She dips her head down and shrugs. "A bunch of file boxes. Papers. They all belonged to Chambers."

Judge and I glance at each other as an idea begins to take shape in my mind.

"That wasn't it," Mercedes continues on. "There was something else."

"What?" Judge asks.

"In the back of the unit, beneath a tarp, there was a rolled-up blanket. It was bloody, and when I picked it up to look at it, a wallet fell out. It belonged to Chambers."

My blood runs cold as the weight of her words settle over me, casting an accusation that can't be refuted.

"He's dangerous, Santi." She looks at me. "And I overheard him say something on the phone. Something I can’t stop thinking about.”

"What was it?" I rasp.

"He said he would sooner rot than let you impregnate Ivy. And if you did, he would cut the baby out of her himself.”

35

Ivy

I’m still shivering hours after Santiago left. I feel so cold. Did he only marry me to gain physical custody of me? To have me within his home, within his power to do with me as he pleased?

Why am I asking the question? I know the answer.

“Your body will be a healthy host for my child.”

My mind is still reeling. I’m pregnant with his baby.

His.

I didn’t miss the fact that not once did he say it was our baby. I am a host. A body. A thing to breed.

The nurse pokes her head inside and warily searches the room. She smiles and pushes the door all the way open when she sees I’m alone.

“How are you feeling, love? I’m glad to see you ate all your breakfast.”

“Am I really pregnant?” I ask her.

She smiles warmly. “Yes, just a few weeks, but you have a strong baby in there.” Her expression changes, pity creeping into it. “You know we have psychologists on staff. They’re approved by The Society so your husband can rest assured—”

“I’m in a Society hospital?”

She looks confused.

I shake my head. “Never mind.” Of course, I am. I am where Santiago can and will control everything. “Can we take this off?” I gesture to the IV.