My mouth is suddenly very, very dry. “Olivia, you can’t handle this alone. This is too big, and it has to be handled carefully.”
She releases my arm. “I know. I’ll figure something out. Don’t worry. You should focus on the baby.”
I frown. “Of course, I’m going to worry. There’s a lot at stake. If this doesn’t work…”
Olivia stiffens, and her expression turns grim. “I know.”
I turn away from her and look back at the fire. “I used to dream of what it would be like to be pregnant. I think most little girls do. My mom said I used to beg her for a sibling.”
“London, I know that look on your face.” Olivia steps closer to me, so we’re chest to chest. “Do not do anything you’re going to regret.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t run. I know it’s tempting when things get tough, but if you leave… I don’t know if you can come back.”
“I’m not going to run.”
“I’d understand if you did.” Olivia’s eyes move over me, and her voice drops even further, so I have to strain to hear her. “I won’t stop you, and I won’t tell Mason, but I’m asking you to think this through.”
“Olivia—”
Her expression shifts again. “Please. I know you and I don’t know each other well, and you don’t owe me anything, but I know my brother, and I love him. I’ve watched him become what our father wants him to be to survive and to protect us, and this… it’ll destroy whatever goodness is left in him.”
My heart thunders uneasily.
Olivia releases me and takes a few steps back. “At least think about what I said. It’s late. We should go to bed.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Mason
“You might want to be careful with that.”
Mathew steps forward and holds the knife up to the light. “You can’t have all the fun.”
“Traitor or not, he’s still a Payne,” I reply. “He can take it, so it’s better to pace yourself.”
Mathew’s lips curl into a chilling smile. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with you wanting to be merciful, would it?”
I shoot my brother a pointed look. “Why would I want to do that? You were right. Oliver is a traitor, and he tried to have me killed. I should tear him apart with my bare hands.”
Mathew’s smile grows wider. “I won’t tell anyone.”
“It won’t accomplish anything. We need him alive until he tells us what our enemies know.”
Mathew rolls his eyes and turns to face Oliver. “I like bloodthirsty Mason better. He’s a lot more fun.”
I allow the briefest of smiles. “He’s still here, but my point stands.”
Mathew waves my comment away. “Yeah, yeah. The empire comes first. No reason we can’t enjoy ourselves a little.”
“Of course.”
Mathew hands me the knife and claps me on the back. “Go ahead, then. I can take a break.”
I glance from Oliver, whose face is mangled, and linger on the gaping, angry red wound on the side of his head. “I can wait.”
“I insist. You, more than anyone, should get to do what you want with him.”