Chapter Ten An Heir To Dragoon.
Boris tapped into his computer in his private office. On his screen appeared a rather irritated Voltaire.
"What is it Boris?" he snapped.
Boris gritted his teeth.
"I have some pleasing news. All of the Bladebreakers have agreed. We have them where we want them. Also, Tyson has an heir to Dragoon," he informed.
Voltaire's mouth unhinged slightly at this news.
"Really? Who is the mother?" he questioned.
Boris hesitated.
"My daughter."
Voltaire suppressed a laugh.
"You have a daughter?"
"Yes, only recently did I find out," he mumbled.
"Isn't that a lovely surprise! A grandchild for Boris" Voltaire mocked. "And the heir to Dragoon, I sense an idea."
"That's what I called you for," he commented. "We can control the Dragoon through the Heir. If he grows up here, we can control him. It's too late for Tyson now."
"How do you know it's male?" Voltaire questioned.
"I have a feeling."
"Finally, no disappointments," Voltaire scoffed.
He switched off. Boris growled and his fist hit the table. The whole desk shook.
Mariah and Grace sat with Hilary in the hospital room as she stared at the ceiling. She had woken from her blood-test and was very drowsy, not to mention the vomiting every hour. Despite this she was the happiest sadist person. She had just been told she was pregnant with Tyson's baby which was the only thing that kept her going. If she wasn't pregnant then she would probably commit suicide she was that depressed. Her boyfriend was a murderer. The kind-hearted, happy, brave and strong person she knew was beginning to disappear in a cloud of red smoke. She was afraid that he would begin to enjoy what he was doing.
Grace broke her thoughts.
"I can't believe you're pregnant," she admitted.
Hilary smiled weakly and stroked her stomach. It wasn't showing yet but she stroked it all the same. A quiet knock and Hilary knew who it was. Tyson. When he came in Grace and Mariah left knowingly. They exchanged worried glances as they left. He sat down and stroked her hand.
"Boris, told me you're pregnant. Is that true?" he asked.
She nodded.
"He also told me that. He's-your father."
She stared at him breathless. Her mind was swirling with confusion.
"Boris?" she croaked.
Tyson looked at the floor.
"He carried a DNA test on you."
She sat up sharply.
"What?" Hilary couldn't go on anymore.
Silence hushed noise.
Her baby was in jeopardy if Boris was the grandfather. He would sink his claws into that baby and drag it to hell with him.
"Tyson, we have to get out of here now," she panicked.
"You're not going anywhere, you're not well enough," he instructed.
"But when I'm better-"
"NO!"
That voice triggered trembling hands. Never had he yelled like that EVER. Even his angriest shouts had never been seething with hatred. She slid her hand away from his and shifted away from him. When he tried to caress her neck she moved like thunder had struck. Knowing what he had done, he left her. The dark aura followed him out, the atmosphere was sparkling clean.
Her body was now relaxed but she was mentally shaken. He was the devils friend yet she felt like she was in hell. All she wanted was to be at home away from these gorillas and bring her baby up safely. She wanted Tyson back.