Chapter 29

Outside the tinted windows of the sedan, I watch the overcast sky press down on the city like a heavy blanket, but there’s still a hint of spring in the air, a promise of renewal and new beginnings. I’m on my way to the jail where Sharon’s being held, ready to close this chapter once and for all.

However, my thoughts keep drifting back to Maura, to our future, to the little life growing inside her. Today’s a big day—it’s the day we find out if we’re having a son or a daughter.

My phone buzzes with a text, pulling me back from my reverie.

I’m at the hospital with Elena and Lily. And yes, our personal army is here, too. I can’t wait to see you later.

I can’t help but smile, imagining the scene at the hospital, our extended family there for this momentous occasion. I wanted to be there, too, but Maura insisted that I make sure Sharon was out of our lives for good, and it was important to her that I go to jail.

I wish I could be there right now. I can’t wait to hear all about it. Do you have any hints for me?

Her reply comes quick, laced with her characteristic playfulness.

Nice try, Mr. I-Can-Get-Anything-I-Want. You’ll have to wait until you get home. No spoilers!

You’re killing me here. All right, I’ll play by the rules this time. I love you.

Love you, too. Hurry back!

The exchange warms me, a stark contrast to the cold formality of the task ahead. But it also reminds me of what’s waiting for me once this is over, what I’m fighting for.

The car pulls up to the jail, and I steel myself for the confrontation with Sharon. I know this meeting is necessary, a final dotting of the i’s and crossing of the t’s in the saga she dragged us into. Yet my mind is elsewhere, with Maura and the life we’re all eagerly awaiting.

With a deep breath, I step out of the car.

Striding toward the jail’s entrance, my steps are measured, and my mind is a blend of anticipation and resolve. Beside me, my bodyguard keeps pace. The driver waits with the engine idling.

The jail looms before us, a stark, imposing structure of concrete and steel, the walls whispering tales of regret and retribution. The security process is thorough, the guards patting me and my bodyguard down for weapons. Metal detectors beep their cold approval as we pass, and eyes—wary and watchful—follow our every move.

Finally, we’re ushered into the visiting area, a room stark in its functionality. Chairs and tables are bolted to the floor, and a glass partition is the only barrier between worlds. It’s there, in a sanitized space of whispered conversations and silent prayers, that I wait for Sharon.

She arrives, a shadow of the formidable enemy we faced. Gone is the polished exterior, the confident arrogance, the carefully curated image of power and control. Instead, she’s sporting the standard jail orange jumpsuit, its drabness a stark contrast to her former glory. Her face, devoid of makeup, shows the wear of sleepless nights and unyielding stress; her features are drawn, her posture slumped yet still exhibiting a small sliver of unyielding defiance.

I feel a surge of rage boil within me as she sits across from me. It’s a visceral reaction, a primal response to the sight of the person who dared to threaten everything I hold dear.

“What the hell do you want?” she spits out, her voice rough, the veneer of civility long since eroded by her circumstances. Her eyes, once sharp and calculating, now burn with a combination of defiance and desperation. “You don’t deserve a second of my time after what you did to me.”

I can’t help but offer a wry comment as Sharon settles into her seat, trying to find a comfortable position amidst the chains and handcuffs, “You’re looking well,” I say.

She rolls her eyes, a gesture so quintessentially Sharon, even behind the glass. “Spare me your bullshit,” she retorts, her tone dripping with disdain. “Why are you here?” she presses, eager to cut through the pleasantries and get to the heart of the matter.

Leaning in, my voice is a blade of ice, “I’m here for your last words to Maura.” The statement hangs between us, stark and unyielding.

Confusion flickers across her face, quickly replaced by a sneer. “Last words? Are you planning on playing executioner now, Luk?”

I shake my head slowly and deliberately. “No, Sharon. The law will handle your punishment. But you’re on the hook for a laundry list of serious crimes, including murder, kidnapping, and attempted murder times two. They consider our unborn baby’s life was being threatened as well when you put the gun to my wife’s head. And your so-called loyal followers can’t stop talking about how you murdered Maura’s father. They, along with Maura, are all willing to testify that you confessed you were responsible for his death. There’s a very good chance you’ll be spending the rest of your life in a place much worse than this.” My words are cold, a mirror reflecting the grim reality of her situation. “So, I figured I’d offer you one last chance to say something kind, show some sort of remorse for once in your life.’

Her laughter is hollow, mocking. “Kind? Remorseful? You don’t know me at all. I’ve got nothing to say to that little brat. I have no regrets about any of it.”

As she scoffs at the idea, my attention is momentarily drawn to another prisoner, a thin, middle-aged woman with stringy blonde hair, making her way to the visiting booth adjacent to ours. Our eyes briefly meet, and there’s a silent acknowledgment.

I quickly refocus on Sharon. “Don’t get too comfortable with the idea of me rotting away in here,” she taunts, leaning back comfortably as if the cold, unforgiving walls of a jail cell are not her new home. “I’ve got resources and plenty of money left over to pay for a top-notch legal team.”

Her confidence is infuriating.

“And they’re telling me there’s a good chance I can cut a deal with the Feds,” she continues, her smirk widening, “and that I can lessen my sentence by turning over some valuable information.”

“By turning on your allies and your own son,” I counter, my voice flat. It’s a confirmation of what I’ve suspected all along. She’ll go to any length to save her own skin.

Sharon just smirks, unfazed. “A woman’s gotta do what a woman’s gotta do. Who knows? Maybe we’ll be seeing each other again outside these walls before too long.”

That’s all I need to hear. The confirmation of her betrayal, her complete lack of remorse, her willingness to sell out her allies and her own child… it all wraps up any lingering doubts about the kind of person she truly is. “Good luck with all that,” I tell her, my tone dripping with disdain.

Sharon hurls a few choice words my way as I stand to leave, but they’re insignificant and bounce off me. I’ve heard enough, seen enough. I nod to the woman in the booth next to ours, giving her the signal. Then, I simply walk away, leaving Sharon and her delusions behind.

As I’m about to exit the visitor’s area, a sudden commotion erupts from the prisoner’s side. A part of me wants to turn back, but I know exactly what’s unfolding without needing to see it. A small grin spreads across my face as security alarms go off.

I reach the exit, allowing myself one quick glance at the mayhem before I leave. The guards are scrambling; their efforts focused on pulling the blonde woman I had briefly acknowledged earlier away from Sharon. She holds a shiv in her hand, tinged red with blood, and though I keep my expression neutral, there’s a dark satisfaction in knowing that she’s executed the plan—and Sharon—flawlessly.

The guard standing by the door, his face a mask of professional detachment, leans in as I pass. “You’d better get moving,” he murmurs, his tone low but urgent. “Doesn’t look good, you being here while all this goes down.”

I nod, ready to leave the prison and its grim dealings behind. As I walk through the door, I can hear a guard’s exclamation, “Jesus, she’s dead!” The finality of those words, the closure they represent, only cause my grin to widen as I step farther away from the visitor’s area.

Leaving the jail, what’s just occurred doesn’t burden me; instead, there’s a sense of completion, of loose ends neatly tied up. Sharon’s threats, her potential to unravel the peace and safety I’ve fought so hard to secure for Maura and our future child, are nullified in one swift, decisive act.

The world outside seems brighter, the air fresher, as I make my way back to the car.

Sliding into the plush confines of the back seat, the sense of a chapter closing washes over me as the vehicle glides away from the jail. My phone vibrates, a coded message lighting up the screen, a signal from one of the guards inside confirming the success of our meticulously laid plan.

Sharon Flanagan no longer exists; she’s now an eradicated threat, ensuring the safety of my family’s future.

Without hesitation, I draft a message to my financial manager, instructing the confidential confirmation of payment to the woman who carried out the deed. She’s not going to see the outside world for a long time, but her actions have secured a substantial sum for her family. Two million dollars can change lives, even if she’s paying a hefty price for it.

And no price is too high to pay to ensure the safety of the ones I love.

I settle comfortably into the plush seat, my thoughts turning to Maura. She’s the heart of all my actions, the reason I’ve waged wars and brokered peace. But how will she react to the lengths I’ve gone to protect us? The morality of my world is a far cry from the one she envisions for our child.

The reality that I’ll need to share the day’s events with her looms over me, and feelings of dread and necessity take over. Maura’s strength and resilience are qualities I’ve come to adore, but what I need to tell her is a whole different beast. The truth about how I’ve ensured our safety, about the darkness I’ve navigated to keep danger from our door is a burden I wish I could spare her.

Yet transparency has always been the foundation upon which we’ve built our relationship. It’s not just about the physical safety of our family but about the trust and understanding between us. As the car turns onto the highway, leading me back to her, back to the life we’re building together, I prepare myself for a conversation I never imagined we’d be having.

An hour later, the car pulls into the driveway. In the quiet sanctuary of my study, I pour myself a drink, the amber liquid a temporary solace for the trepidation brewing within me. The door opens slightly, and one of the staff, ever discreet, informs me that Maura has arrived home. I steel myself for the conversation ahead.

Maura enters, radiant, her pregnancy lending her an ethereal glow. In that moment, with the soft light illuminating her features, she’s the embodiment of everything pure and good in my world. She begins excitedly, “Luk, the ultrasound was amazing! The baby is healthy and—”

I raise a hand, gently stopping her mid-sentence. “Maura, I apologize, but there’s something I need to tell you before you go on,” I say, cutting her off. “Something happened today. Part of me wants to keep it from you, but you’ve asked for honesty, and I promised I will always give it to you.”

Confusion flickers across her beautiful face. “What are you talking about? What happened?”

Taking a deep breath, I let the truth spill out, raw and unembellished. “Sharon is dead. I arranged it,” I confess, watching her closely for any sign of how deeply my words have struck.

Maura’s reaction is a mixture of shock and disbelief. “You… what? Why would you… How could you?” The questions tumble out, each one reflecting the turmoil I’ve just thrust upon her.

I move closer, needing her to understand, to see the necessity behind my actions. “I did it to protect us, Maura. To ensure our family’s safety. Sharon was a threat, not just to me, but to you and our child. She had the means to get herself out of jail, and I couldn’t let that happen. She was going to come for you again, for all of us. I couldn’t allow what she’d done to stand.”

The room fills with tension, a tangible force that seems to press down on both of us. Maura’s eyes search mine seeking answers, clarity, perhaps even remorse. “I know this is hard to accept,” I continue, “and part of me hates the fact that she left me no other choice. But I need you to know, everything I do, every decision I make, is to protect what we have, what we’re building together.”

Maura continues to search my eyes for answers as the silence stretches between us, a chasm filled with unasked questions and unspoken answers.