Chapter 9: Chapter 9
Michael's reaction was immediate—his hands cradling Sarah's face as he kissed her hard, a rare, unchecked display of emotion that made Kai turn away.
"Jesus," Michael breathed, pulling back just enough to press his forehead to hers. His fingers trembled against her jaw. "You're sure?"
Sarah laughed, high and bright, her manicured nails digging into his arms. "Three tests, baby. All positive."
Michael exhaled like he'd been holding his breath for years.
Kai forced a grin. "Guess I'm getting a sibling."
Michael finally looked at him, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes before he schooled his expression. "Guess so."
——
Dinner was champagne and expensive steak, Sarah glowing under Michael’s rare attention. He poured her mineral water instead of wine, his knuckles brushing hers every time he passed her a dish.
Kai stabbed at his asparagus.
"You okay?" Sarah asked, her voice laced with concern.
"Just happy for you guys," Kai lied, raising his glass. "To the baby."
Michael’s jaw tightened, but he clinked his glass against Kai’s. The crystal rang sharp between them.
——
Later, Kai lay in bed, listening to the muffled voices from his mother’s room. He couldn’t make out the words—just the low rumble of Michael’s voice, Sarah’s soft laughter.
He rolled onto his side, pressing his face into the pillow.
Stupid.
Stupid to think—
The floorboard outside his door creaked.
Kai froze.
A beat of silence. Then footsteps, retreating down the hall.
——
3:17 AM.
The house was silent except for the hum of the fridge, the occasional groan of settling pipes.
Kai padded barefoot to the kitchen, his throat dry. He filled a glass at the sink, the water icy against his fingers.
A hushed voice stopped him cold.
"—I *know*," Sarah whispered. "But it has to be his. You understand that, right?"
Kai’s pulse roared in his ears.
A pause. Then Sarah again, quieter. "No, I don’t care. You’ll sign whatever Michael’s lawyers put in front of you."
Kai edged closer, the tile cold under his feet.
Sarah sighed. "Because if you don’t, he’ll divorce me. And then neither of us gets anything."
Kai’s fingers clenched around the glass.
Another pause. Sarah’s voice dropped to a murmur. "It doesn’t matter whose it is. It only matters whose he *thinks* it is."
The fridge clicked off, plunging the kitchen into silence.
Kai held his breath.
Sarah’s footsteps approached.
He ducked into the pantry just as she rounded the corner, her phone glowing in the dark.
She grabbed a bottle of prenatal vitamins from the counter, her reflection ghostly in the black kitchen window.
For a second, she just stood there. Then she twisted the cap off, dry-swallowing two pills.
Kai didn’t move until her bedroom door clicked shut.
——
Morning sunlight streamed through the blinds, painting stripes across Kai’s rumpled sheets. He hadn’t slept.
Downstairs, Sarah hummed over the blender, the scent of banana and protein powder thick in the air.
Michael leaned against the counter, watching her with that same unreadable expression.
Kai slumped into a chair, rubbing his eyes. "Morning."
Sarah beamed, sliding a smoothie toward him. "You’re up early."
"Couldn’t sleep." Kai glanced at Michael. "Guess I’m just excited about the baby."
Michael’s fingers tightened around his coffee mug.
Sarah patted Kai’s shoulder. "Aw, you’re gonna be the best big brother."
Kai forced a smile. "Yeah."
Michael set his mug down with a sharp *click*. "We need to talk about the trust."
Sarah’s smile faltered. "Now?"
Sarah's manicured nails tapped against the blender lid, the rhythmic clicking the only sound in the suddenly charged kitchen. Michael didn't blink, his gaze locked on Kai like he'd been waiting for this moment. "The trust needs amending," he said, voice flat. "With the baby coming, we have to restructure everything."
Kai's stomach dropped. He watched Michael's hands—those same hands that had wrecked him in the backseat—flip through a stack of legal papers. The trust. The one that had always been meant for Michael's blood heir.
"Of course," Sarah chirped, pouring her smoothie into a glass too fast, the green liquid slopping over the rim. "We'll need to set up separate accounts for—"
"I'm including Kai."
The words hung in the air like the citrus scent of Sarah's abandoned grapefruit on the counter. Kai's fingers twitched against his knees.
Sarah's smile froze. "That's... generous."
Michael's jaw worked. "He's family."
Kai couldn't breathe. This wasn't generosity—it was a goodbye. The final piece slotting into place. Michael needed this baby, needed the world to believe it was his. And Kai? Kai was being paid off.
The chair screeched as he stood. "I'm good."
Sarah reached for his wrist. "Honey—"
Kai shook her off. "No, really. I don't want his fucking money." He was already moving, already striding toward the stairs. Behind him, Michael said nothing.
——
The shower scalded Kai's skin red, steam fogging the mirror until his reflection disappeared. He scrubbed at his chest like he could erase the memory of Michael's mouth there, the bruising grip of his hands. The water turned icy, but he didn't adjust it.
His phone buzzed on the sink. Jake. Again.
**JAKE: U ghosting me now?**
Kai turned the shower off, dripping onto the bathmat. The house was silent below—Sarah at her prenatal yoga, Michael God knows where.
His fingers hovered over the screen.
Then he heard the garage door rumble open.
——
Michael stood in the laundry room, tossing his gym clothes into the hamper when Kai cornered him. The scent of sweat and expensive cologne clung to his damp t-shirt.
"I heard her," Kai said, voice low. "Last night. On the phone."
Michael didn't turn around. "Don't."
"It's not yours." The words tasted bitter. "The baby."
The hamper lid slammed shut. Michael finally faced him, eyes dark. "I said don't."
Kai's chest ached. "You *knew*?"
A muscle jumped in Michael's jaw. "The world thinks it's mine. That's what matters."
The floor tilted under Kai's feet. All those nights listening through the wall, Michael taking what he needed from Sarah while Kai—
He turned on his heel. Walked out.
——
Kai's bedroom door locked with a satisfying click. He pressed his forehead to the cool wood, breath coming too fast. His reflection in the mirror looked wrecked—hair wild, eyes red-rimmed.
His phone buzzed.
**JAKE: Seriously?**
Kai threw it across the room.
The clock ticked toward midnight. Sarah's snores drifted through the vents. And Kai?
Kai typed with trembling fingers.
**KAI: One more night.**
The response was instant.
**MICHAEL: No.**
Kai swallowed.
**KAI: Please. One last time.**
The silence stretched. Then—
**MICHAEL: Door open.**
——
Michael smelled like bourbon when he slipped inside, his broad shoulders blocking out the moonlight. Kai's pulse pounded in his throat as those familiar hands pushed him back onto the bed.
"Been thinking about this," Michael murmured against his neck, teeth scraping skin. "How tight you were in that car."
Kai arched into the touch, the sheets cool against his bare back. Michael's fingers worked him open with practiced ease, each thrust stealing his breath.
"Missed you," Kai gasped, hips lifting.
Michael's chuckle vibrated against his throat. "Liar."
The crinkle of foil made Kai's stomach clench. He grabbed Michael's wrist. "Don't. Not tonight."
Michael stilled. "Kai—"
"I want to feel you." Kai pressed closer, mouth brushing Michael's ear. "Just once."
A beat. Then Michael cursed, tossing the condom aside.
Kai barely had time to inhale before Michael was inside him, splitting him open like always. The stretch burned, perfect and terrible.
"You take it so good," Michael growled, hands bruising Kai's hips.
Kai bit his lip bloody to keep from saying what clawed at his throat—*I love you*.
Instead, he let Michael fuck the truth out of him, thrust for thrust, until dawn painted the room gray.
——
Michael was gone when Kai woke, the sheets still warm where he'd lain. The house hummed with morning quiet—Sarah's shower running, coffee brewing downstairs.
Kai reached for his phone. Three missed calls from Jake.
He deleted them.
Then he opened his notes app and typed day one the the date. Kai gets up and bypasses his birth control. He hadn’t taken it yesterday either. All a part of the sick twisted plan his mind had conjured up.