Chapter 6 #2
I straighten my tie. “I did what I had to do. Eventually, Tatiana would’ve understood even if she couldn’t forgive me.
But I would’ve been able to take care of her and Noah, and she wouldn’t have gone through everything she did alone.
” The thought that something could’ve gone wrong at Noah’s birth—that I could’ve lost either or both of them—and that she or my son were cold or had gone hungry fills me with such violence that I shut those notions down before they drive me to do something I’ll regret, something such as punishing Tatiana for putting her and my baby’s life in danger.
“She kept the existence of my own child from me, and she was never going to tell me.” The knowledge only provokes regret and anger. “That was wrong.”
“You can’t hold the fact that she ran against her.”
I don’t and I do. I understand why she did it, but I wish she hadn’t.
The set of Jasper’s features is obstinate. “She didn’t have a choice. She was alone and vulnerable.”
Like hell she didn’t have a choice. “She could’ve stayed. Leander would’ve protected her.”
“Oh, come on.” Jasper lifts her eyes to the ceiling. “We both know Leander can’t protect his own ass.”
I remain quiet because that’s true.
“She knew what you’d done.” Jasper holds my gaze. “She knew you were behind the attack.”
I return her accusing glare with a stony look.
“It wasn’t difficult to figure out.” Her smile is loathful. “You were the only one who knew the route her father was going to take that night. You knew because Tatiana told you.” She pauses to let that sink in. “She knew it was you, Dante.”
“I never said I wasn’t going to tell her.”
“No, you just wanted to use her first before coming clean.” She looks me up and down. “All that time, she thought you were keeping your relationship a secret because she was promised to Joni Stein.”
Just the mention of that name makes me clench my hand into a fist beneath the table.
The only reason that motherfucker is still alive is because he hasn’t spent a penny in trying to find his missing fiancée, and he’s never laid a finger on her.
If he had—touched her, that is—I would’ve chopped off his hands before killing him.
If he comes anywhere near her, I’ll still off him.
Jasper intertwines her fingers on the table and leans closer. “I bet the real reason you didn’t want anyone to know you were seeing Tatiana was because you couldn’t risk her father finding out.” Her mouth twists. “With your vendetta, he would’ve seen right through your plan.”
“Your point is?”
Observing me as if I’m a lost case, she shakes her head. “The saddest part is that she protected you right to the end.”
I narrow my eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know what?” She scoffs. “Never mind. You don’t deserve her. You never did, and you never will.”
Mimicking her pose, I rest my elbows on the table and get into her face. “Tatiana and Noah are going home with me. So are you.” My words are soft but loaded. Deadly. “Nothing you say is going to change that, so save your breath for arguments that actually matter.”
She bobs her head up and down. “At least that answers something I’ve been wondering about for the last five years. You really don’t have a heart in that black hole you call a chest.”
Tatiana and Noah return, followed by Reino just as the waitress arrives with our drink orders. Ignoring the daggers Jasper shoots at me with her eyes, I stand up out of courtesy until Tatiana has taken her seat.
Noah’s T-shirt is plastered to his back, and his hair is damp with sweat. He gulps down half a glass of water, clearly thirsty after all the jumping and climbing.
Reino takes his place next to Jasper. An awkward silence falls over the table as the waitress returns with Jasper and Noah’s food. Tatiana glances between us, no doubt picking up on the hostile atmosphere.
Noah holds up his palms. “Look, Dante. I already washed my hands.” He dives in straight away, going for the burger first. “I’m allowed to eat with my hands.”
Reino snatches a French fry from Jasper’s plate.
She cuts him a look. “I don’t like other people’s fingers in my food.”
Grinning, he steals another couple of fries.
She rolls her eyes and pushes the plate toward him. “You may as well have it now.”
“Hey.” He nudges her shoulder. “Relax, firecracker. I also washed my hands. Ask Noah.”
“Uh-huh.” Noah nods and says around a mouthful of food, “He did, Jazz. I was in the bathroom with Mommy, but I saw him through the door of the men’s bathroom. He used soap too.”
“Noah.” Tatiana admonishes him gently. “What did I say about speaking with food in your mouth?”
He gives her a mischievous smile, swallows, and, licking some ketchup from the corner of his mouth, says, “Sorry.”
“Come on, firecracker.” Reino puts the plate back in front of Jasper. “Eat your food.” He motions at her glass. “You can’t live on Diet Coke alone. It’s not healthy.”
“Don’t call me that,” she snaps.
The waitress brings the rest of the orders and asks if we’d like anything else to drink. Reino doesn’t drink on duty. He sticks to water. As I’d like to remain vigilant, so do I. Jasper remains stubbornly quiet, and Tatiana declines the glass of wine I suggest.
We finish dinner in a strained silence. The only one who seemed to have enjoyed his meal is Noah.
He climbs onto his knees on the bench when his dessert arrives.
The waffle is served with a dollop of cream on the side and an array of toppings that comes in small bowls, allowing him to make his own creation, a task he takes to heart.
He adds a little of everything, including chocolate chips, jellybeans, and colorful sprinkles, before presenting us with his artwork.
I snap a photo with my phone of a proud Noah showing off his dessert.
My mind goes to the photos that were on the wall in Tatiana’s rented house, which are now safely in my briefcase.
The past is what it is. I can’t turn back time and change it.
But I’ll be damned if I don’t fill my walls with all the moments of his life yet to come—school portraits that map the years from gap-tooth smiles to awkward young adulthood, holidays, graduation, a wedding, and maybe, if I’m lucky, grandchildren.
I nurse that idea like a man nurses a drink he doesn’t want to finish too quickly, allowing the sweetness of the promise to ease the loss the first four years of absence had eaten into my heart.
We’re back at the hotel early. I check that my men are in place and lock the elevator and door. Tatiana slips away with Noah to run him a bath.
Once more, I find myself facing off with Jasper in the lounge. “Do I need to lock you in?”
She crosses her arms. “Where am I going to go? You have men at every exit.”
“I’m glad you understand. In that case, I’ll say goodnight.”
She stares after me, her eyes burning holes into the back of my head as I walk to the study. When I return after locking the key card and my phone in the safe, Jasper is gone, and her bedroom door is closed.
I go to the bathroom between Jasper and Noah’s rooms. Splashing and Noah’s laughter come from the other side of the door.
I knock before entering. Noah sits in the tub in water up to his waist with shampoo bubbles in his hair and his curls fashioned into a spike on his head. He’s looking at his reflection in a hand mirror that Tatiana is holding from where she’s kneeling on the rug next to the tub.
They look up when I approach. The smile vanishes from Tatiana’s face. Tension replaces her carefree manner.
“Look, Dante.” Noah laughs. “I’m a woodpecker.”
I stop next to the bath. “A woodpecker, huh?” I tilt my head. “You look more like a dinosaur to me.”
“Oh, yeah.” He’s all teeth as he grins at me. “That’s a lot cooler.”
Tatiana’s tone holds a bite. “We’re learning about birds.”
Ignoring her hostility, I adopt an amiable tone. “We should go to the bird park.”
Noah is quick to jump on the offer. “Can we?”
Tatiana pushes to her feet, refusing the hand I offer her. “We’ll see.” She puts the mirror on the vanity. “Two more minutes, Noah.”
He pouts. “But I want to stay longer.”
“Bedtime is at eight. If you want me to read you a story, you better finish your bath.”
His shoulders sag in a dramatic way, making me smile, but he doesn’t argue.
“Can Dante read the story?” he asks.
“We’ll see,” Tatiana says again, turning away from me to pick his clothes up from the floor.
She carries the garments to the basin, which is filled with soapy water, and dunks them inside.
I come up behind her. “The hotel has a laundry service.”
She shrugs, keeping her back turned to me. “I’m used to washing our clothes by hand.”
I don’t like it. “You don’t have to.”
“It’s just a T-shirt and underpants.”
“Tatiana.”
At my stern tone, she spins around, soap bubbles dripping from her hands. “What?”
And there it is, that feisty nature of hers. She could never contain her anger or irritation.
I take in her beautiful face, a face of which every line is drawn in my mind. Yet there are new lines now, lines I don’t know, and I’m both curious about and jealous of them.
She flinches when I reach out to trace the small scar on her cheek. Leaning away, she avoids my touch. I still with my hand in the air, making it clear I’m not going to hurt her.
She freezes like a bird caught in a trap, watching me with trepidation dancing in her green eyes as I cup her face and rub my thumb over the silky skin of her cheek.
The scar is bumpy under my pad. Her throat bobs as she swallows.
She remains dead still as I learn the shape of the silvery mark that sits like a seal on her cheekbone, somehow enhancing instead of diminishing her beauty.
I move my thumb aside to study the small, embossed circle while keeping my hand on her face. “How did that happen?”
She purses her lips and tries to turn her head away. “It was nothing.”
Narrowing my eyes, I hold fast. “That doesn’t look like nothing to me.”