Velvet Devil: A Russian Mafia Romance (121)

It makes me angry to hear all this. I could have prevented it. I could have saved her from those lonely, angry nights.

And she’s not done.

“I think that was the point at which I realized I couldn’t do that to Jo. She deserved the right to a safe and stable home. She deserved to have birthday parties and playdates. She deserved to go to sleep at night and know without a doubt that she could wake up in the same bed the next morning. That was what I gave her when I chose to leave her with my sister.”

Her cheeks are flushed by the time she finishes. Her chest rises and falls. Her green eyes have the appearance of being faded with unshed tears.

“It was the hardest decision I’ve ever made in my life. And some days, I’m still not sure if it was the right one for me. But I’m confident in the fact that it was the right decision for her.”

I step towards Cami. She tenses immediately, coiled up like a snake. So I freeze, caught between somewhere and nowhere, one hand reaching for her like it can wipe away all those fears.

When I finally find my voice, it comes out in a hollow croak. But it’s not what I thought I was going to say.

“What’s she like?”

Camila does a double take. But the second she starts talking, her entire face relaxes. Her eyes soften.

“She’s… amazing,” Camila starts, a tender smile playing across her face. “She’s smart and thoughtful and curious about everything. She’s obsessed with puzzles right now. That’s the only thing she asks for on her birthday, on Christmas. She loves the challenge of solving something. Taking a bunch of broken pieces and putting them together. And books, too, of course. She’s reading now, a little. I send her books whenever I get the chance.”

“What does she look like?” I ask quietly.

“She… she looks a little like you,” Camila says softly. “She was born with blonde hair, but it gets darker every year. She has blue eyes. Not quite like yours. A little lighter. A little gentler. Her nose is mine, though. And she’s got a birthmark on her arm in the exact same location as I do.”

I nod, drinking in the little details and committing each one to memory. I feel like I’ve been parched and marooned on a desert island my entire life, and each tiny thing Cami tells me is another sip of water.

Jo still doesn’t feel real. She still doesn’t feel like mine.

But it’s coming. I can feel it.

“And Maxim doesn’t know?”

“No,” Camila says with a deep sigh. “I was going to tell him about her after the wedding, but now I’m glad that didn’t happen.”

“Who would you have told him was the father?”

“Some random guy, a one-night-stand,” she says. “But… he would have seen through that. And he would have used it against me. And against you.”

She turns her gaze away from me, as though the reminder is too much for her.

“Why didn’t you tell him before?” I ask curiously.

She shakes her head as if she herself doesn’t quite know. “I… I was scared to. I’d kept her a secret for so long that it felt wrong to tell anyone about her until I had some sort of surety that I could trust the person I was telling. I thought marriage would be surety enough. Guess not.”

“No. It would not have been enough.”

I take another step forward, but my body is stiff and unyielding. Like it too needs time to process all these harsh and sudden changes.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

She meets my eyes for a second before she looks away again. Her shoulders are arched back, but the confidence in her posture seems to crack just a little. She draws in a deep, shuddering breath, and I wonder for a moment if she’s going to cry or break down.

But when she raises her eyes again, she looks as fiery as ever.

“You showed up, after six years, on what was supposed to be my wedding day to another man. You married me against my will and kept me in your home despite my protests. Which part of all that was supposed to make me trust you?”

“I’ll buy that that was your reasoning in the beginning,” I say. “But what about later? When you shared my bed and opened up to me about your life. You failed to mention the most important part of your life.”

Her eyes flash. “I had to protect my daughter.”

“From her own father?”

She moves away from me, forcing more distance between us. “You aren’t her father, Isaak. You’re the sperm donor. Nothing more.”

I snare her arm and pull her towards me. “You should have fucking told me.”

She wrenches out of my grasp. “You didn’t earn the right to that secret.”

“I can protect her!” I roar. My voice echoes in the cramped room.

Cami is all venom. “I don’t want you anywhere near her,” she yells right back. “Not if I can help it.”

“You don’t have the right to make that call anymore.”

Her eyes narrow. “What do you mean?”

“I’m her father, Camila. You can’t keep me from her.”

“No,” she says firmly. “Absolutely fucking not. I will not allow you to involve my child in this world. I don’t want the Bratva for her. She deserves more. She deserves better.”