Page 24

TWENTY-THREE

Inaya

This is all my fault. I was sure I'd hear from Dante somehow by now. Positive that he'd be miserable without me and come back, but my hope dwindled more with each passing month. Now, the holiday season is approaching, and my loneliness is increasing. I thought I'd make friends but quickly realized that I'm now too suspicious to befriend a random person.

My need to connect to something familiar led me to a cabin my nanny used to take me to as a child. It was fun with campfires and s'mores. I just needed to feel something. So much has changed and nearly nothing at all.

I didn't expect that this would be the place where my biological father would choose to hide. I was staring out at the water, wondering why we never went for a swim, when someone spoke behind me.

"Inaya?"

I freeze, since it's a voice I'd be content to never hear again. Fear spikes, but I know I need to play it cool.

Turning slowly, I face the person I used to be happy to see while cursing my stupidity.

"Dad?"

Just calling him that burns my throat but if I learned anything from Dante, it is not to poke the bear. My acting must be top-notch. The last thing I need is to go from his daughter to his enemy in his eyes. Too much is at stake.

My tears are sadness, but I hug him so he can read it as relief. He grips my face, staring at me in awe, making me wish he wasn't such a terrible person. He looks tired like he has lost a lot of sleep, but I don't know if it's due to concern for me, his money, or both.

"I thought you were dead," he whispers and pulls me into another hug.

I try my best not to cringe at his touch. It's astounding that he can treat others terribly and still come off as a doting father.

"Don't worry. I'll get payback."

The steel in his voice reminds me of what had me running in the first place. Granted, I've seen Dante kill more men than my dad, but his level of hurt and anger cannot be faked.

I managed to fly under the radar for two days, but things began to unravel by the third. His suspicions spiked. He couldn't understand how I was still alive. I could tell by the look in his pale eyes that I couldn’t lie and say I got away because we both know Dante’s skill set is much too advanced for that to have happened.

"How did you get away from him?" he asks again.

I decide to go with a partial truth. "He'd gotten hurt, and it resulted in him having a high fever. He was too delirious to worry about holding me hostage. He had to give me the combination to the safe to get the meds. I took my money and passport and left after he passed out.”

Father tilts his head. "I still don't get why he didn't kill you before that."

I shrug. "He really didn't say much beyond he wanted you to feel what it was like." I know it's a risk, but if he wants to probe, then so do I. "What was he talking about, Dad?"

He may be a feared crime boss, but he has tells. And the way he rubs his fingers across the table as he bites the left side of his bottom lip announces the lie that's about to fall off his lips.

"I don't know. I tried to help him as a child, but he was jealous that you had parents. That hate just festered, I guess."

He tries to give me a sincere look, but I see the blankness in his eyes. I never noticed it before because he always looked at me with such affection, I never realized that he didn’t give a shit about others. I’m now in a “question everything” mode, and therefore have to consider the notion that Dante kidnapped me to brainwash me against my dad.

I also consider if my dad had him do it to test my loyalty. All I know is I don’t want to play the game or be lied to any longer.

“I’m tired,” I tell him. Some of his men rise when I do. “All the running and hiding is catching up. I’m going to take a nap.”

Antoni waves one of his men over, who presents me with a cup of tea. “Drink, córka. It’ll help you rest.”

It’s not the only time he has called me daughter in Polish, but this time, he says it like he’s questioning our relationship. My nerves kick up, but I need to play it cool and minimize my time with him like I’ve been doing. Too much time together will be detrimental for us. Another lesson from Dante — don’t consume anything I didn’t prepare myself.

“No, thank you. I’m tired enough to rest fine without help. Thank you.”

I can still see the trace of suspicion making the scar near his eye that used to be endearing seem menacing. Leaning in, I hug him and kiss his cheek like I would have if things weren’t strained in my mind.

My walk to my room requires more concentration than it usually would because I don’t want to walk too fast or too slowly. I need to seem as relaxed as any normal daughter is with her father. I also need to figure out how to get away from him fast without raising his suspicion. I’ve been around him for too long already.

As I close the door to my old room, I breathe just a little easier. Walking on eggshells around Antoni is harder than just being alone. I lie on the bed staring at my phone like a way to communicate with Dante will somehow become obvious. A few swipes on the internet brings up a news article about our reunion. I don’t know when Antoni did that, but that might have been the signal to trigger Dante. I don’t know if anything is afoot, and because of that, I decide that I need to leave tonight. At least I know where I’m at and how to get back to society. This is delicate.

My yawn isn’t surprising since I really am tired. Tucking my phone under the pillow, I snuggle up under my cover and allow sleep to take over. I’ll think better when I’m not tired. I don’t know how long I was asleep, but my dream about Dante and me existing in a different, simpler time is interrupted when I’m jostled awake.

I shield my eyes from the bright light, but I’m still able to see Antoni leering at me with disgust. It takes a moment for me to realize what happened, but I now feel the air on my abdomen. When I try to pull my shirt down, he’s blocking that action.

“I fucking knew it. You’re a worthless slut, just like your mother.” The hatred on his face must have been the side of him that Dante saw all the time.

“What are you talking about?” I nearly yell. It’s the first time I’ve heard him refer to my mom as such.

The sting from his slap makes my face burn, and I grunt when he pushes my belly. “Don’t act fucking dumb. You’re a nurse; I know you know you’re pregnant.”

It’s been my thing and my secret this entire time, and I hate the way it’s said and out in the open. I don’t know how Dante will feel about it, but I’ve decided if I have to choose between him and the baby, I’ll choose the baby. Too many innocent lives have been fucked up in my world. It’s not important right now, because the baby and I must survive Father .

He raises his hand again, but I curl into a fetal position to block his hit. Antoni drags me out of bed by my arm, and I yelp in pain when my knees hit the wooden floor. His men stand by, not caring that he has a pregnant woman- HIS Daughter- on the ground. He pulls my hair, forcing me to look up at him. He’s acting as if I betrayed him, although he’s never spoken to me about Dante. Never said to stay away from him. Never said anything negative to me, yet I’m supposed to know not to touch.

Besides, I just got out of captivity. He didn’t even bother to ask if I was raped. No benefit of the doubt is given, just abusive rage. Even knowing who he is to Dante, it’s still surprising that he’s treating me like this.

“He’s like a fucking parasite, and you laid there like a bitch in heat and allowed him fuck his poison into you.” He pushes me down to the ground. “Worthless.”

I push myself up on my knees. “I’ll just go then.” I hold in my tears. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction. I just want to protect my child. “I’ll get out of your sight.”

He uses the sole of his boot to kick me in the side.

“No!” he growls, then releases a string of insults and curses in Polish. “The only thing that’s leaving is that fucking rat inside of you. Then maybe I can see you as my daughter again.”

“No!” I yell. “The baby stays!”

Despite being in danger, I return all the vitriol in Polish. He has the nerve to look hurt when I call him a monster as I’m getting dragged out of my room.