At Eight Months Pregnant, I Chose To Raise My Baby Without Her Vampire Father

First thing the next morning, I took that card to the law office.

Morgan — my lawyer, referred by a college friend — was sharp-tongued and sharper still with paperwork. She took one look at the card and frowned. "This isn't a supplementary card from your joint account, is it?"

"No." My voice was flat. "He gave it to me last night."

Morgan looked up at me, her expression serious and focused.

"If he can pull out a card linked to an account you've never seen just to pacify you, that means the assets he's hiding — whether under his name or through shell companies and trusts — are far from small. If we follow the trail from this card, there's a good chance we'll uncover much more."

I looked down at the black card, suddenly remembering the way Adrian had held me last night — that belated flicker of guilt — and his soft voice saying, "You've been with me all these years. I shouldn't have let you suffer."

The irony couldn't have been sharper.

I tucked the card away, looked up at Morgan, and was surprised by how calm I sounded. "Then dig."

"He cares so much about the Blackwood fortune and reputation? Fine. I'll unearth every single thing he's buried."

I still remembered what he'd told me when we were dating — that he'd give me everything, every penny, and make me the happiest woman in the world.

Well, since he'd made the promise, I'd give him the chance to keep it.

Sunlight poured through the window, bright and sharp against the desk.

This was the sun-drenched world that vampire could never withstand.

I rested a hand on my belly and felt the baby stir — quiet, but strong.

In that moment, everything became perfectly clear.

Adrian thought handing me a card was charity. Appeasement. Compensation.

But what he'd placed in my hand was the very blade that would end him.