Chapter 13 - The Choice Lucian Refused to Make for Her
The surgery stopped before medication was administered.
A replacement team arrived.
Federal agents sealed the floor.
The forged authorization had come from an old hospital credential belonging to Kessler.
Someone had activated it remotely.
Elena was in custody.
Marcus was hospitalized under guard.
Kessler was dead.
One accomplice remained.
Dr. Hale.
She had escaped detention hours earlier.
But Saoirse had no time to care.
Her baby's heart rate dropped again.
The obstetrician looked directly at her.
“We recommend an emergency C-section.”
Not Nikolai.
Her.
“Do it.”
Nikolai squeezed her hand.
Saoirse was taken into surgery.
The next twenty minutes became fragments.
White lights.
Masks.
Nikolai's eyes above surgical clothing.
Pressure.
Voices.
Then silence.
Too much silence.
Saoirse stopped breathing.
“Why isn't the baby crying?”
Nobody answered immediately.
“Nikolai.”
His eyes filled with terror.
Then—
A cry.
Sharp.
Angry.
Alive.
Saoirse sobbed.
Nikolai broke completely.
Their daughter was lifted briefly where Saoirse could see her.
Tiny.
Red-faced.
Furious at the world.
Perfect.
“She's okay,” someone said.
Saoirse closed her eyes.
Their daughter was born at 7:03 p.m.
Six pounds, two ounces.
Healthy.
The Brennan trust transfer activated immediately.
But Saoirse didn't think about it.
She thought about the warm bundle placed against her chest.
Nikolai touched one tiny hand.
“What do we call her?” he whispered.
Saoirse looked at him.
They had never agreed.
“Anya Mae.”
Nikolai cried harder.
For his sister.
For Maeve.
For everything stolen.
Anya Mae Brennan-Drevik.
Not because ownership mattered.
Because history could be remembered without being repeated.
Lucian visited the following afternoon.
He stood awkwardly near the door holding flowers.
“You look terrified,” Saoirse said.
“I've negotiated with people holding rocket launchers.”
“And?”
“This is worse.”
She laughed.
“Come meet her.”
He approached.
Anya wrapped her fingers around one of his.
Lucian became completely still.
“Pavel wants to see her.”
“Eventually.”
“I told him that.”
“You didn't decide for me?”
His mouth twitched.
“I've been trained.”
Nikolai entered.
For a second, the old tension returned.
Then Lucian extended his hand.
Nikolai looked at it.
Took it.
Not friendship.
Not yet.
Maybe never.
But the inherited war ended there.
Pavel came two days later.
Tess accompanied him.
He stood near Saoirse's bed.
“I owe you an apology.”
“Several.”
“Probably.”
“You threatened me.”
“Yes.”
“You kidnapped my mother.”
His face tightened.
“Yes.”
“You don't get forgiveness because we discovered why your life became what it did.”
“I know.”
Saoirse appreciated that answer.
“But you can become something different.”
Pavel looked toward Lucian.
“I don't know how.”
“Neither did he.”
Lucian rolled his eyes.
Tess smiled.
For one strange moment, they almost looked like a family.
Damaged.
Complicated.
Trying.
Then Cesily entered with bad news.
Hale remained missing.
And a document had disappeared from Viktor's archive.
The original Brennan trust.
Without it, Saoirse's ownership could be challenged.
Nikolai immediately stood.
Saoirse didn't panic.
“Copies?”
“Legally weaker.”
“Who accessed the evidence room?”
“One person.”
Cesily showed them security footage.
A woman in hospital scrubs.
Hale.
She had entered before Anya's birth.
Lucian asked the obvious question.
“Where would she take it?”
Saoirse knew.
“The only place Elena taught everyone to return.”
Terminal Seven.
Lucian prepared men.
Nikolai prepared to go.
Saoirse looked at both.
“No war.”
“Saoirse—”
“No guns unless lives are threatened. Call federal investigators.”
They did.
Hale was found at Terminal Seven.
She wasn't alone.
Marcus had escaped hospital custody.
He stood beside her.
But when agents surrounded them, Marcus pushed Hale away and raised his hands.
“I brought her here.”
Hale screamed at him.
Marcus ignored her.
He held the original trust document.
“I wanted one thing.”
Saoirse watched remotely.
“What?”
“To give Patrick's daughter back what I helped steal.”
He surrendered.
Hale was arrested.
The document was recovered.
It should have been the end.
Then Cesily examined it.
Her expression changed.
“What?”
“There are two pages stuck together.”
She carefully separated them.
A handwritten codicil appeared.
Signed by Maeve.
Witnessed by Patrick.
Saoirse read the first sentence.
Upon transfer, Saoirse Brennan shall have thirty days to choose whether the trust continues to exist.
She could keep the empire.
Sell it.
Divide it.
Or dissolve it.
Thirty days.
Nikolai looked at her.
Lucian looked at her.
Everyone waited.
Saoirse folded the document.
“No.”
Cesily frowned.
“No what?”
“No one waits for my decision like I'm some new queen.”
She looked down at sleeping Anya.
“I'll decide when I'm ready.”
That evening, Nikolai sat beside her.
“Whatever you choose—”
“Don't.”
He stopped.
“Don't tell me you support whatever I choose before you know what it is.”
He smiled faintly.
“Fair.”
Saoirse studied him.
“What if I destroy everything your family built?”
“Then I'll help with the paperwork.”
“What if I keep the legitimate companies?”
“I'll apply for a job.”
She laughed.
“What if I don't take you back?”
His smile faded.
“Then I'll still be Anya's father.”
“And us?”
“I'll hope.”
Simple.
No pressure.
Saoirse reached across the space between them.
For the first time since leaving the mansion, she took his hand.
Then Cesily's phone rang.
She answered.
Her expression changed immediately.
“What?”
Everyone looked at her.
Cesily slowly lowered the phone.
“That was the prison.”
Saoirse's stomach tightened.
“Elena?”
Cesily nodded.
“She asked for you.”
“Why?”
“She says someone is coming to kill her tonight.”
May you like
Saoirse stared.
“And she says that person has the final page of your mother's ledger.”
