I step forward and put my arms around him.
He stiffens, then crushes me to his chest, burying his face in my hair the way he used when I was a kid and got a cut. I feel his shoulders shake. My own eyes blur. For a second we are not a mob boss and a mafia princess in a Russian garden. We are just two broken people trying to hold something that cracked a long time ago.
When we pull apart, my throat is raw.
“Why did you not tell me?” I ask.
“How could I?” he says. “You adored her. I didn’t want you to hate her. Or me.”
Silence hangs between us. A raven caws on the roof. Another answers. The sound makes all the hairs on my arms stand up.
“I wonder if that is why Gustav married me. For some kind of revenge?” I ask.
He sighs. “When I found out Gustav wanted to marry you, I did not understand it. With Janice and Magnus dead, both sides paid the ultimate price. I hoped that Gustav Just wanted an American girl with the right bloodline. But I don’t know whatSophia told him. I asked Gustav when we first spoke over the phone. He didn’t mention the affair, but I worry for you. Every day.”
“So why come now?” I ask.
His mouth twists. “Tyra visited. She told me you went into labor. That the baby was early and fragile. That your husband was acting strange and she was worried. I didn’t want to come, because of the history and blood spilt here.”
Tyra. Of course. She returned to California a few days ago. She’d been here for months taking care of me. It was time for her to go back. Live her life. It didn’t take long for her to make sure someone took her place. Just wish it wasn’t my dad.
Suddenly, Dad says with an air of surprise, “Gustav?”
I turn.
Gustav stands by the rose bushes at the edge of the garden, half in shadow, half in sunlight. Tall. Still. Hands in his pockets. His pale eyes locked on us. On my father. On me. I have no idea how much he heard, but from the tightness in his jaw and the faint tic under his eye, I know it’s enough.
My stomach drops.
“Gustav, wait,” I call, taking a step toward him.
He doesn’t answer. His gaze flicks to my father.
“So,” he says, voice low and almost calm. “Janice Piccanno is the reason my mother shot my father.”
The way he says my mother and my father makes my skin prickle.
My dad swallows and nods. “Yes. I am sorry. I never meant for it to go that far.”
Gustav’s face does not move. For a heartbeat, he looks carved from stone. Then the corner of his eye twitches again.
Without another word, he turns and walks away, disappearing around the corner of the hedge.
Panic claws at my chest. I want to run after him. To grab his face in my hands and tell him I love him, that I amnotmy mother, that I will never do to him what Magnus and Janice did to our families. But he’s just as a shook as me. We both need a moment to process this.
“Do you want to come home with me, lil one? If he allows it. It’d give him space he might want.”
“I love him,” I say quietly. “I can’t leave him. Especially now.”
He sighs and straightens his jacket. “At least let me see my granddaughter before I go.”
I nod and take him back inside. Keira is in the sitting room, rocking Vera gently and humming a lullaby. When she sees my father, she stands immediately and offers the baby to me so I can present her properly.
For a few minutes, watching him cradle that tiny body, all I feel is sadness and love. Then it’s time. He kisses my cheek, squeezes my shoulder, and leaves with a promise to call. I watch his car roll down the long drive and disappear.
Keira appears and lingers in the doorway beside me, arms folded loosely.
“You could’ve gone with him,” she says quietly. “With your father. Back to America. It’d not be cowardly. You have a baby to think of now.”
