Velvet Devil: A Russian Mafia Romance (122)

“What don’t you understand? It’s not a choice, Camila. The moment she was born, she was Bratva. She deserves my protection. She deserves all the rights that come with being my daughter.”

“Stop!” she cries. Her voice is reaching panic levels now. “Stop. You are not her father. Until five minutes ago, you didn’t even know she existed.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“I did what I did to protect her.”

“From me?”

“YES! Yes, from you! Because you don’t care about her. The only thing you care about is the goddamned Bratva. Jo deserves more than a father who’ll use her as a power play to get the upper hand in a family squabble.”

I shake my head in dismay. She doesn’t get it. After all this fucking time, she doesn’t know a single fucking thing about me.

“You really believe I would do that?”

“You did it with me.”

I stare at her coldly, anger superseding every other emotion I’m feeling. “You are not Bratva,” I tell her. “You are not family.”

She veers back as the hurt washes over her features. She looks away to cover her expression, to hide it from me so she doesn’t see how deep I’ve cut her.

But it’s too late.

I’ve seen it all.

And I know what I have to do next.

“Isaak!”

Bogdan’s footsteps rush down the stairs in the wake of his voice. He steps onto the cement floor, completely ignoring the tense atmosphere sizzling between Camila and me.

“I’ve held them off as long as I could, Isaak,” Bogdan tells me. “They have a warrant. We have five minutes tops before they get here. We need to get Camila out of sight.”

“No,” I say firmly. “That won’t be necessary.”

“What?” Bogdan asks, clearly confused.

I turn my gaze on her. “Camila, you’re free to go.”

She stares at me in disbelief. “Wha…?”

“You’re no longer my captive.”

Her face runs through a cacophony of emotions. Confusion, fear, anger, understanding, acceptance. Then it hardens into something I recognize: cold-blooded certainty.

“Isaak,” Bogdan says, moving closer to me. “You’re letting her leave?”

“Yes,” I say firmly. “Take her up to them.”

Bogdan hesitates, studying my face for clues as to what’s changed so drastically in the last hour.

“Now,” I growl.

Bogdan gestures for Camila to follow him. She doesn’t move for a moment. Her eyes rake over my face but I refuse to look at her.

Then, admitting defeat, she follows Bogdan up the staircase and disappears onto the top floor. I stand there in the basement cells for a long time. Long enough for Bogdan to come back down to find me.

“Well?” I ask.

He plops to a seat on the bottom step and rubs the heels of his hands in his tired eyes. “She told them that she was here of her own accord, so there won’t be charges pressed against us.” They’re gone now.”

I nod. “Good.”

“Brother…”

“I need you to do something for me,” I interrupt.

He sighs. “Anything.”

“You found the address I told you to search for?”

He hesitates. “Yes…”

“Good. Get on a plane tonight,” I order. “You’re going to go to that address and get something. Something that belongs to me.”

Bogdan’s eyebrows hit the roof as he struggles to figure out what that something is.

“What kind of something?”

“My daughter.”