She Has His Eyes, and He’s Marrying My Stepsister Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Let Her Have Her Wedding

Grant drove. I sat in the back holding Ivy while she fought for every breath. I’d called 911. They said eight minutes. knew she didn’t have eight rninutes.

My phone was on speaker. Killian’s voice filled the car.

“Hospital. I’m calling ahead. Two minutes away from you. Wren, keep her awake.”

“She’s turning gray, Killian. She’s-” My voice broke completely.

“Talk to her. Tell her about the ducks.”

So I did. I babbled about ducks with tears pouring down my face while my baby’s eyes rolled back

His car was already at the ER entrance when we pulled up. He ripped the door open, scooped her out of my arms, and ran. A team of doctors was waiting, because of course they were. He’d called the hospital’s board directly.

Then the doors swung shut, and I was left standing in the hallway.

Killian came back out a minute later. He didn’t say anything. He just pulled me against him and held me while I shook.

Forty minutes. Forty minutes of the longest hell of my life.

Then a doctor walked out smiling.

“She’s going to be fine. Another five minutes and it would’ve been a very different conversation. But she’s stable. She’s asking for her mommy.” The doctor glanced at Killian. “And for someone she calls Killy.”

I laughed and sobbed at the same time.

Ivy was asleep in a hospital bed, a tiny oxygen tube in her nose, a stuffed duck under her arm. Killian sat beside her holding her hand like it was made of glass.

Grant walked in, his face dark. He held up his phone.

“Mom’s neighbor has a doorbell camera. Points straight at the kitchen window.” He hit play.

There was Sloane. Alone in my mother’s kitchen. Stirring peanut butter into cookie dough.

Then there was Sloane in the hallway. Unzipping my purse. Pulling out a yellow EpiPen. Dropping it into her coat pocket.

I couldn’t breathe,

“She tried to kill her,” I whispered. “She tried to kill my baby.”

Killian didn’t move. He didn’t yell. He didn’t break anything. He just went completely, terrifyingly

still.

And that scared me more than anything.

“And the pregnancy?” he said quietly.

“Fake,” Grant said. “I reverse-searched the ultrasound. It’s a stock image from a fertility clinic’s website. She didn’t even crop the watermark well.”

Killian stood. He walked to the window. Stared out at the city for a long time.

When he turned back around, his eyes were cold blue fire.

“We could call the police right now,” I said.

“We could.” He nodded slowly. “And she’d get a lawyer. Her father would pay for the best one in the country. She’d cry. She’d say it was an accident. She’d go to rehab for three weeks and come out with a podcast.”

“So what do we do?”

He walked back over to the bed and gently brushed a curl off Ivy’s forehead.

“We let her have her wedding.”

I stared at him. “What?”

“Everything she ever wanted. A cathedral, Five hundred guests. Every reporter and influencer in the state. Her father in the front row. Cameras everywhere.” His voice was soft and lethal. “She stole our life in secret, Wren. So I’m going to take hers in front of the whole world.”

He looked at me. And for the first time, I saw the man the business world was terrified of.

“In seven days,” he said, “Sloane Reyes is going to walk down the aisle in a Vera Wang dress. And she’s going to walk out

in handcuffs.”