CHAPTER 53
BRENDA'S POV
To think Christian actually spent time in the kitchen cooking… only for it not to meet my expectations.
Yeah, I know what that sounds like.
Ungrateful.
But I do appreciate the effort—just… blame the hormones.
Ever since I moved to Hawaii, I cut off contact with everyone.
Even Nella.
It was selfish, I know. But at the same time, I couldn't risk anyone finding me.
…Well, someone already did.
Later that day, I had an appointment with the doctor.
I sat in the chair, Christian beside me and the doctor across from us.
"Pregnancy at this stage is very risky," he said. "You're in your third trimester, so the slightest mistake can be fatal—especially considering your age."
I narrowed my eyes at him like he'd just accused me of something.
My age?
I was barely over forty—not exactly ancient.
"And I say that with respect," he quickly added, clearly noticing the shift in my mood.
His eyes flickered toward Christian, like he was waiting for approval.
What kind of power does Christian hold that—
Never mind.
I was probably overthinking it.
He continued with his advice, handed me my vitamins, and left shortly after.
I lay on a mat in the garden later, trying to get some fresh air… maybe clear my head.
Everything felt quiet.
Too quiet.
Then I heard voices inside.
Christian's.
Reginald's.
I got up and walked toward the house. The closer I got, the louder they became.
The study.
I paused by the door and pressed my ear against it, trying to catch something—anything—that would give me a clearer picture of who Christian really was.
I couldn't make out much…
Until I heard a name.
"—Daemonikai—"
Without thinking, I pushed the door open and walked in.
"Daemonikai? What happened to him?" I asked, directing the question at Reginald, since he was closest.
The room went still.
Everyone exchanged looks—like I had just done something I wasn't supposed to.
I swallowed.
Maybe walking in like that wasn't such a good idea.
Christian walked over to me and took my hand. Surprisingly, I didn't pull away.
He lifted it slightly, like he wanted to bring it to my face—but stopped midway, his eyes searching mine, checking for resistance.
I didn't give him any.
So he kissed the back of my hand.
"Daemonikai? Do you know him?" he asked.
"Yes, I do," I said. "You do too."
I pulled my hand from his.
I was already annoyed that he even asked.
Blame the hormones.
"I'm not sure I understand," he said, taking a slow breath, careful not to rush me. "Sweetheart, I do not know Daemonikai. I've had encounters with him, yes—but I've never met him."
"Brenda, how do you know him?" Reginald asked, pulling out a chair for me.
I sat down.
Then I looked at each of them—one by one—trying to read what I wasn't being told.