71. -70-
Dorian
The text message caught me completely unprepared. I pushed the pain of Nina’s rejection of Aryna to the deepest corner of my chaotic brain, refusing to deal with it while I was at Zyon’s house. But of course, Valeria immediately noticed I wasn’t myself. I didn’t smile enough, or so she said.
Well, sorry, my dear, but it was hard to smile when my wife didn’t want the kid I loved with all my heart. Not to mention the bodies I left behind, and Lorenzo being strapped to a chair in one of our warehouses. Bleeding, I might add, because I forbade everyone from even looking at him.
That fucking bastard was mine. He needed a lesson from a good father book, and I was about to give him one for free. But first of all, I had to find out who he owed the money to, and why he wanted to marry Nina off so desperately.
Because when I found out that the imbecile had faked his trip to Colombia—the airport records, the passport, even his phone showed the location somewhere in that country just to force Nina to marry Sonny—I almost had a stroke.
So much trouble, so much planning to kidnap her. He called Dino Monteverde from whatever hole he was hiding in just to get her, for fuck’s sake! Who in their right mind would call that fucker for help?
My chest constricted at the mere thought of what those brutes could do to Nina if Dino weren’t her grandfather’s first enforcer. They would have her for dessert.
The edges of my vision darkened. My pulse spiked. If he so much as touched her, I’d cut his balls off, hack off his fingers, then string the whole fucking collection into a wind chime.
“Look, Daddy!” Aryna brought me back to reality, holding a pile of magazines. I frowned when she slammed them on the glass coffee table. “Auntie Valeria gave it to me to pick furniture for my bedroom.”
Her coral-blue eyes shone like the brightest stars, and her smile stretched her cheeks so wide that her face almost split.
“Perfect,” I choked out, pretending to be engrossed in closets and beds while my brain panicked.
“You can have a pink one, like mine.” Zara took another magazine and opened it to show Aryna the huge bed with pink, flowery bedsheets, pink curtains, and a closet that looked like a castle. Aryna’s mouth formed an O.
“Can I?” she whispered, clasping her hands in a pleading gesture.
“Of course,” I said without hesitation. “Whatever you want, angel.”
“I love when Daddy says that.” Zara grinned widely, nodding excitedly. “It really means whatever.”
An involuntary chuckle slipped out of me as I glanced at their happy faces. But it was quickly wiped out by the fucking voice in my head.
Too bad she doesn’t have a home yet, the demon mocked. When will you tell her how royally you fucked up?
I clenched my fist, ready to send him to hell with his bullshit, when Nina's text came. The demon literally vanished as if he’d never been in my head at all.
I stared at the text message, reading it over and over again. A tiny smile lifted the corners of my mouth, but I didn’t know how to reply.
“Okay” sounded cold.
“Thank you” sounded desperate.
A heart? Absolutely fucking not.
“This should be enough for now,” Valeria interrupted my inner battle, dragging an enormous black suitcase down the staircase. I jumped to my feet, horrified.
“Hey!” I yelled, running up the stairs to her. “You can’t move around heavy things? Why didn’t you call me?”
“I’m okay.” She waved her hand nonchalantly, pushing her red hair out of her face with the other. “It’s not that heavy.”
“What’s in it?” I asked as I walked over, trying not to fall face-first on the shiny marble floor.
“Just some of Zara’s dresses, T-shirts, and other stuff.” She shrugged. “She has so much of everything.”
“Thanks.” I smiled, realizing Aryna had nothing at my house. Only the pajamas and old toys because I refused to bring anything from her previous home to remind her of the past.
“No problem.” Valeria looked at the girls, arguing about the color of the carpet in a magazine.
“I’m happy Zara has someone her age around.
” She sighed, looking around the spacious living room.
“Sometimes I feel like I’m in a mausoleum, alone and cut off from the outside world. I don’t want her to feel the same.”
“Zyon is just trying to protect you.” I gently took her hand and squeezed. “He’d go nuts if something happened to you.”
Valeria smiled softly, placing her open palm on her lower stomach.
“I think he’s already gone nuts.” She grimaced, her voice falling into a whisper so the girls didn’t hear her. “Last night, I heard the commotion in the hall, so I went to check it. Two guards stood before the door. Can you believe that?”
“Okay.” My teeth sank into my lower lip. “Maybe he’s slightly crazier than I thought.” She lifted a brow, her mouth twitching. “But only because Malin is in the hospital. Once he’s back, he’ll persuade Zyon that the house is safe.”
“Can’t you do it?” she asked hopefully, but I shook my head.
“Zyon will never believe I have control over Malin’s security system.” I placed a hand on her shoulder. “But I promise that I’ll talk to him about guards inside the house.”
“Thank you,” she exhaled, her eyes shining with gratitude. “He only listens to you or Malin.”
“Well, we’ve been together since the beginning.” I winked at her playfully. “No one can beat that.”
Her face finally lit up.
“Anyway.” She stopped me when I wanted to drag the suitcase into my car. “I called the school to see if they can admit Aryna, and it shouldn’t be a problem. But for Zara’s class, she’ll need to take special exams.”
“Oh, great.” I blinked in surprise. “I didn’t know you were handling this.”
“I just thought of helping you…” She trailed off, turning to look at Aryna. “And if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call me.”
“Thanks.” I leaned down and kissed her cheek. Zyon would most probably rip my face off, and Nina would clap at the performance, but I didn’t care. “You’re the best.”
With a huge, honest smile, she helped me out of the door and brought Aryna outside.
“I hope to see you soon.” She waved at us, clutching Zara’s hand because she wanted to run away with the dogs.
Aryna talked the entire ride home about Zara’s toys, her board games, her coloring books, the fact that she could sleep with a dog, and that her father apparently promised to take her on a helicopter ride.
“What is a helipopter anyway?” she mumbled, pursing her lips in the rear-view mirror. “Never heard of that.”
I laughed, opening my mouth to correct her and explain, but she didn’t pay me any attention and started another round of talking, so I let her. But my mind instantly returned to my wife.
Nina texted me three stupid words.
Bring her home.
Maybe she wasn’t as angry anymore.
Maybe she’d looked at everything from my side.
Maybe…
I squeezed the steering wheel until my knuckles turned pale.
Don’t be an idiot, I scolded myself. One text didn’t erase everything that happened. Still, she wanted Aryna home.
The thought settled deep inside my chest, warm enough to quiet the constant noise in my head. For a second, I allowed myself to dream a little.
The three of us eating dinner together. Aryna arguing over vegetables. Nina rolling her eyes at both of us. A quiet evening. No blood. No guns. No hospitals. No violence. Just… home.
The image was so painfully ordinary that my throat tightened.
“Daddy?” Aryna’s small voice pulled me back before I disappeared too far into the fantasy.
“Hm?”
“If… your wife…” she said the word hesitantly, as if she didn’t know how to call Nina, “doesn’t like pink, can we paint my room yellow instead?”
A smile spread across my face before I could stop it.
“Angel,” I looked into the rearview mirror, “if you or Nina want it rainbow with purple elephants on the ceiling, we’ll make it happen.”
Aryna giggled so hard she snorted, and somehow that ridiculous little sound eased the knot in my chest just enough for me to believe we could make it work. We could be a real family.
You already dreamed before. The demon reared his head. How did it turn out for you?
The answer was… terrible. It turned out worse than any fucking disaster in my life before or after. And I dreaded the conversation about my past that awaited me, but Nina deserved to know everything. The darkest months of my life included.
“We’re here,” Aryna squealed excitedly, unfastening her seatbelt and trying to get out the moment I stopped.
She ran around the car while I fought with the suitcase, the magazines falling from her hands.
I only shook my head at her antics, letting her battle the wind as she tried to pick up what she'd dropped.
“Come on, angel.” I opened the door for her, but stopped in my tracks when the piano’s gentle tones reached my ears.
First of all, I hated when someone touched my piano.
Out of habit, I expected people to ruin it.
Like Zyon did when we were kids and he sat on the keys.
Or like Malin did when he chased Zyon and fell on it.
Or like Ramzan did when he spilled milk all over it.
I was heavily traumatized. But knowing Nina loved playing, maybe even more than me, filled my chest with happiness.
Aryna stared at me, eyes wide, when we entered the living room. Nina sat behind the piano, playing one of Chopin’s most famous pieces: “Nocturne” in E-flat major. I stared at her as if hypnotized when, out of nowhere, she shifted to “La Campanella.”
The transition was weirdly smooth, as if she’d done it a hundred times before, but the difference in pace was striking. Her slender fingers glided through the keys; despite the long fingernails, she played perfectly.