57. SCARLET
A few days later…
I finally see my dad. After weeks of longing, being held in his embrace feels surreal.
"I missed you, angel," he says, kissing my forehead.
"I missed you, too." I kiss his cheeks and pull tighter against his familiar chest. A place that has always given me comfort and security. The only place during my fucked-up childhood where I felt safe.
"I don’t understand why DeLuna didn't just drop you off at my house," he says after we finally let go of one another. We're in Antonio's office; I suppose it's full confession time.
"Why would I drop my wife off at your place?" Antonio asks, and I shoot darts at him with my eyes. We had an agreement: I would get to tell my father the news in a sensitive way.
"Wife?" Dad looks confusedly from me to Antonio.
"We got married," Antonio confirms, and I try to burn him again with my eyes, but he ignores me.
"Married?"
"I'm sorry, Daddy, I wanted to tell you, but over the phone?—"
"Married?" Now, Dad is nearly shouting. He strides toward Antonio. "If you forced my daughter?—"
"No, he didn't, Daddy." I grab his arm, but he pulls loose. I have no idea what he's thinking, but I'm worried he's going to get hurt. Physically, this time.
Antonio crosses his arms over his chest. "Nobody forced her into anything."
My dad whips around, staring at me, trying to read my face. "If you're in some kind of trouble, I can get you out, sweetheart. I swear."
Shit, this is not going like I wanted it to at all. I glare one more time at Antonio, but he just looks smug. Asshole.
"Come here, Dad, come sit." I guide him to the sofa and sit right next to him, taking his hands in mine.
"I'm sorry, this is not how I wanted to tell you.
" I pause to glare at Antonio again, something that doesn't escape my dad and actually seems to relax him somewhat.
"After Antonio saved me and we spent some time together, we…
we fell in love," I confess. Saying it out loud, I realize how ludicrous the story sounds.
I mean, we fell in love within days. Hard.
Harder than some people who have been in a relationship for weeks or months.
"Okay," my dad nods. "But why marriage? I mean, don't people usually date for a while?"
"That's not something we have the freedom to do in my line of work," Antonio states, still with his arms crossed over his chest.
"We'll have an official wedding after Carlos…
is in jail," I correct myself in time. I'm learning.
I hate lying to my dad, but he can't know the truth, although he probably does suspect it.
Why else would Antonio want Carlos sent to a specific jail?
My dad is a smart man; he understands how the world turns.
But we can't say it out loud in front of him; he's still a judge.
"And I'm really hoping you'll be there." I snuggle up to him.
He swallows, and I give him time to digest the news.
"If this is what you really want…"
"I do," I nod.
"Shouldn't you be asking me for my daughter's hand in marriage?" Dad challenges Antonio. God, give me strength , I pray. Caught between two alpha males, I realize I’m in for a whole new experience.
Antonio scoffs, a low, dark sound that’s more amusement than submission.
His jaw flexes, and his fingers tap once against his knee.
I can see the war inside him—his natural instincts to reject authority, refuse explanation, and take instead of ask, clashing with the current situation.
I send him a pleading look, silently begging him not to make this harder than it already is.
His sharp green eyes flick to mine, holding me in place for a second.
Then, with a slow exhale, he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and his presence expands in the room like a force of nature.
"Judge Lambert," he says, his voice smooth, steady, and laced with a quiet dominance that refuses to be challenged. "I don’t ask for things that are already mine."
Dad’s expression darkens instantly.
"But if you need to hear it, then fine—Scarlet is mine. I'll protect her. Provide for her. Kill for her. She'll never want for anything." His voice dips into pure steel now. "But let’s be very clear—this isn’t me asking. This is me telling you how things are going to be."
Oh dear. A tense silence stretches between the men as they silently duel each other with their eyes. I inhale slowly, willing my pounding heart to slow down. The tension is thick enough to cut with a knife. I'm about to say something when Dad finally nods.
"You better mean that, DeLuna." His voice is gruff, but beneath the edge, I hear approval. "Because if you ever hurt my daughter, I don’t give a damn who you are?—"
Antonio leans back in his chair, his smirk lethal. "If I ever hurt her, Judge, I’d expect you to put a bullet in my head yourself."
Dad studies him for a long moment, then—finally, reluctantly—he nods. "Then you have my blessing. Take care of her."
I let out a long exhale; I'm not sure whether to feel relieved or outraged.
Because I just watched two powerful men clash over my future… which sounds very medieval.
"I'll give you two a moment alone," Antonio says as he walks over to kiss me, nods curtly at my dad, and leaves his office.
"So," I turn to Dad.
"Since he left us, I assume he isn't forcing you to do anything you don't want," he hazards.
I force out a quick laugh and shake my head, "No, come on, let me show you something."
I lead my dad to the elevator Antonio had installed for me. It will take us up to the third floor, where men are busy building my curatorial studio.
"What is this?" Dad looks around. There's not much to see yet, but an ultramodern office has been finished first.
"This is my office," I show him.
White shelves decorate the walls, filled with the books from my apartment, plus more that Antonio ordered, and some rare artifacts he bought me over the last few days.
Every day, I'm finding something new on my nightstand—either a piece of jewelry or a small arrowhead like the one Dad is currently holding up.
"That's about eighty thousand years old," I tell him. Incredibly valuable and rare.
"He did this for you?"
I nod. "He loves me, and I love him, Daddy."
"So it seems." My dad scrutinizes another artifact, then my desk. Some of the computer equipment Antonio had bought for our investigation has made its way up here.
"He's building you your own curatorial studio?"
"Yes."
"He's a criminal." He says the words I've been waiting for since he heard the news. But then he surprises me. Before I can argue, he continues, "I would have never thought I would say this, but in the kind of world we live in, I actually think you're safer with him."
"I'm sorry you had to let go of your principles twice to save me, Daddy."
He looks startled, "I'd do anything for you, sweetheart, you know that."
It hurts and scares me, but I have to know. "Dad… did you know? What Mom did? I mean, before that day."
"No, Scarlet, I swear to you I didn't. I would have never allowed that to happen. Never."
I believe him, despite Antonio's words about his father taking Gigi to dance lessons and giving her a bath, and how he had to have noticed. My dad did notice, but I choose to believe he really believed the bruises and cuts were accidents.
"I was so busy building my career that I believed your mother's lies about cat scratches and falls.
I believed some of the bruises were from ballet.
I'm so, so sorry. I should have known better, especially as a judge, where I've seen so many…
" his face scrunches up in pain and anguish. So much so, it nearly breaks my heart.
"It's okay." I didn't mean for him to feel guilty or regretful. I wrap my arms around him. "Really, it's okay."
"No, it’s not Scarlet, and it never will be. I take full responsibility for this. I should have been there for you."
My heart aches for him, but I push thoughts of guilt down, because that's the old Scarlet. I have nothing to feel guilty about. I was a kid. I’m sad that I brought it back up again, but it had to be said.
"Well, you'll have another chance," I cheer him up.
"What do you mean?"
"Come." I lead him to the stairs this time. We're only going one floor down to where Antonio's and my suite is, and where Gigi and I are preparing a new room.
It's not done yet, far from it, but it's unmistakably a nursery.
"Scarlet!" Dad looks at the white crib and then swings his eyes to me.
I nod. "You're going to be a grandpa, and I promise you will be able to change all the diapers you want. Meet Jellybean." I take his hand and press it to my still flat stomach.
He hugs me tightly. "You're making an old man undeservedly happy."
I hate bringing Mom into this room, but we're here, and things need to be said. "It's not undeserved, Dad. I know you love me—have always loved me. You've done things for me… things that go against everything you believe in."
"And I'd do them again," he responds fiercely.
"So…" I bite my lower lip, "Mom was really dead then when you…"
He nods. "She broke her neck on impact. I took her and staged an accident. She had enough alcohol in her body to make it believable."
"I'm sorry, Daddy."
He kissed my forehead like he used to when I was a kid. "That's what fathers do; they protect their little girls. I failed for many years, but from the moment I found out, I swore I would never let you down again."