Chapter 9 – Arrested

Waylon It’s been a month since Terra returned. After the incident, she’s kept to herself, avoiding the public eye—not that it’s surprising. The Andersons have a reputation for circling the wagons when it comes to family. Meanwhile, Demi, Diego, and Dylan conveniently disappeared. The Salvador’s may wield influence in this town, but the Andersons aren’t exactly pushovers. Watching the power struggle between them promises to be... entertaining. The past few weeks have been quiet on my end. With Demi off the radar and Damian distracted, I finally secured the last few shares needed to solidify my place as CEO of Samaritan Airlines. Now, the only thing left is to deal with Demi and Diego—the snakes behind the scenes. As if the universe was listening, Demi showed her face today. I spotted her skulking near an abandoned warehouse. Curious, I followed. And just like that—jackpot. All three of them, Demi, Diego, and Dylan, huddled together like fugitives at a back-alley reunion. Disgraced, desperate, and exactly where I need them. “Here—your flight’s in the afternoon. Go back, and when I need you, I’ll call,” she said coldly. “Come on, cousin,” Mason drawled. “Now that we’re no longer useful, you’re just tossing us aside?” She scoffed. “What else do the two of you even have to offer me?” “Oh, we’ve got plenty—if you’re interested,” Mason replied, eyeing her up and down with a slow, suggestive grin. “Scum,” Demi spat, disgust dripping from her voice. That seemed to set Diego off. He grabbed her by the arms, the tension crackling between them like a live wire. For a moment, it looked like things were about to escalate—but then he smirked, dark and twisted. “Say it again,” he murmured, his tone low and unsettling. “It turns me on.” Demi smiled, clearly enjoying the roughness of his grip. “The two of you are nothing but scumbags—straight out of the gutters of Shit Town.” Diego’s smile twisted into something darker. “You’ve got a sharp mouth for someone standing all alone.” “I’m never alone,” Demi hissed, yanking her arm free with a force that left red imprints where his fingers had dug in. “And you forget—I own your freedom.” He laughed, low and dangerous. “Do you? Or are we just two sides of the same dirty coin?” Dylan, leaning against the rusted doorframe, clicked his tongue. “Can we stop with the foreplay and get on with it.” “I’ll tell you what happens next,” Demi snapped, glaring at both of them. “You two disappear. You lay low, keep your mouths shut, and wait for my call.” “And if we don’t?” Diego asked, stepping closer, his shadow swallowing hers. Demi didn’t flinch. “Then I bury you deeper than you buried Terra’s Anderson.” Silence stretched. The air grew heavy with unfinished threats. Then Diego smirked. “So be it. But just remember, cousin—loyalty has an expiration date.” He ran his finger slowly down her cheek, stopping at the edge of her lips. “But it can always be renewed,” he murmured, letting his fingertip linger. She didn’t move. Neither of them did. It was a twisted game of power and control—one I had no interest in watching play out. They took a step back, and Demi followed, like a moth drawn to fire. The show was over. I’d seen enough. Slipping away unnoticed, I made my way back to the office and placed an anonymous call to the cops. By the time their little reunion wrapped up, the authorities would be waiting—right on cue to clean up the mess they thought they had under control. But not everything went according to plan. Demi didn’t even last fifteen minutes before she came barreling into my office. Her dress was barely done up, revealing more than it covered. She was drenched in sweat, her hair a tangled mess, and her makeup smudged halfway down her cheeks. “Sam, scratch me. I’m itchy,” she purred, in what I assume was meant to be seductive—but came off more desperate than anything else. I glanced up from my computer, then looked right back down. “Haven’t your itches already been scratched?” I replied flatly, not sparing her another glance. “What are you talking about?” she asked, feigning innocence. But nothing got past me. She was playing dumb. Before she could pull any more stunts, the police stormed the airport and raided the warehouse. We watched from the office window as the two men—still half-naked—were arrested and dragged to the police car. The look on Demi’s face said it all—rage, confusion, maybe even a hint of regret. “I don’t give a damn what—or who—you fucked with,” I said coldly. “But stop trying to bait me. Stop offering yourself like it’ll change anything. Nothing you do will have an impact on me, and you know it. Now leave.” “But Sam—” “Better leave before the cops get to you.” She scowled, stomped her foot like a tantrum-throwing child, and stormed out of the room. I sighed, rubbing my temple, trying to ease the headache that came with the name Demi Salvador. For the first time, I truly questioned how I’d tolerated that attitude for so long. A knock at the door pulled my attention away from the swirling frustration. “Come in,” I said. Dan waddled in like a newborn duck, and I burst out laughing. Now that was a definite mood changer. “It’s been a month. Still recovering?” I asked. “Ugh, you have no idea.” Dan waddled forward and slipped into a seat in the most awkward way possible. “I truly thought I was going to lose my procreation privileges.” “That woman can pack a punch.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “She wasn’t just using her hands—both hands and feet, my guy. Lord, I thought I wouldn’t live to see another day.” “And you let her? Danny, you were never like this,” I pointed out, amused. “Enough about me,” he cut the conversation short, straightening in his seat. “Diego and Dylan have been arrested. The Andersons will take over from here.” He slid a file across the desk toward me. “Also, I’ve got the report you requested.” I picked it up and flipped through the contents. Most of the information matched what we already knew, but this time, Dan had dug up more detail about Terra and her hospital visit. Due to complications during delivery, she had undergone a cesarean section—which confirmed the scar I saw on her abdomen. But as I looked down at the dates, my frown deepened. She nearly had a miscarriage. That was just one month after we broke up. The same day I saw her outside her home. Shame tightened in my chest like a vice. Her pregnancy... it lined up exactly with the night I took her for the first time. And I—God—I had no idea. I didn’t just walk away from her... I left her to go through it all alone. “The dates align perfectly. Those kids are mine,” I said aloud. “How can you be so sure? She could’ve been with someone else after. I heard that, after you went your separate ways, she was a regular at bars and pubs.” I snapped my head up, eyes narrowing. “How could someone else’s children have so many of my features? And Terra is not a licentious woman.” The edge in my voice wasn’t subtle. Dan immediately backed off. “My apologies,” he murmured. “I don’t want to hear those words from you again,” I warned. Dan nodded silently and said nothing more as I finished reading the report. After a long pause, he asked, “What would you like me to do next? Are you going to fight for parental rights?” “You can go back now,” I replied. He gave a short nod and left the office without another word. Once alone, I leaned back in my chair, my thoughts a tangled mess. I knew now—without a doubt—that those kids were mine. But I also knew, just as clearly, that Terra didn’t want to see me again. I could still hear the indifference in her voice at the airport. Cold. Distant. Guarded. Was I really going to fight for parental rights? I didn’t even know the first thing about raising a child. Hell, I hadn’t even known they existed until a month ago. And after what I did… there’s no way she’d willingly hand them over. Maybe not even forgive me. Conflicted, I grabbed my phone and dialed the lawyer.