“Try again. And I want the straight goddamn truth.”
He clenches his jaw, his cheeks muscles rippling. “My father knew her.”
“Your father knew her,” I repeat. “In what way?”
He says nothing, as if trying to put together a story in his head, but I don’t want to hear whatever he’s cooking up. I’m done with the lies.
“It’s complicated, but not what you’re likely thinking.”
I chew the inside of my cheek for a moment. “Is this the ‘truth’ Ruth was referring to? That you and your family have some sort of connection to mine?”
He steps slowly over to the desk, leaning forward and flattening his hands on it. Moonlight covers him in the same silver sheen as the rest of the room. “I’ve been trying to protect you. That’s what all of this has been about.”
“What are you protecting me from, exactly? What does this mean?” I ask, shaking the album.
He pushes off the desk and steps around it, moving to the chair, as if he’s only comfortable when he can be in the position of the boss. “Gabriella.”
“I’m done being handled,” I say, closing the album. My palms are sweaty, shaking. “I’m done being the clueless girl in the dark while the men decide what version of reality I’m allowed to see.”
He flinches. It’s small, but I see it. “I didn’t want to drag you into a history that wasn’t yours.”
“Wasn’tmine?” I sweep my hand towards the photo album. “Mymotheris in those photos. This history seems like it’s just as much mine as it is yours.”
He says nothing, looking down at the desk, his hands once more fanned open on the surface. The sight of him sitting there, silent, not telling me what I want to know infuriates me.
“You know what? Screw this.”
I rise to leave. With surprising speed and only a few strides of his long legs, Sasha stands and moves toward the office door, blocking me. By the time I reach the door, he’s already a solid wall.
“Move.”
He looks away for a moment, then turns those dark eyes toward me, the reflection of the moon a silver pool in the obsidian. “Please.” The word is foreign in his mouth. “Don’t go. Not like this.”
It’s strange to hear him speak like this, but it doesn’t change the fact that I want to be out of there. Now.
“Not like this? Like what, of my own accord?”
He closes his eyes, the twin moons in his eyes vanishing for a moment. “I have failed you.” He opens his eyes again, andthere’s a vulnerability to his gaze that’s wholly unfamiliar to me. “I know that.”
The admission sucks the air out of the room.
“Failed me?”
He nods. “I have feelings for you that cloud my judgment at times. I’ve taken vows to keep you safe that prevent me from making honest choices. And I have the ghost of my dead father always lurking, reminding me of a promise I made so many years ago.”
My heartbeat grows loud, thudding against the silence. “What promise?”
He takes a deep breath, then nods towards the album on the table behind me. “Your mother came to my father a long time ago and asked him for help to disappear. He helped her do just that. For years after, he continued to watch over her and her daughter from a distance.”
“I’m assuming you mean me?”
He nods. “Yes. Before my father died, he made me promise I would continue that protection. I wasn’t left with clear instructions. I had to improvise, but I did what I could. I watched over you, arranged the scholarship for college—though your academics spoke for themselves. And I opened the door for you at AngelCorp.”
I shake my head, trying to process all of this. “So everything I have is because of you.”
He shakes his head. “No, not quite. If you weren’t as brilliant as you are, I wouldn’t have positioned you so highly at AngelCorp. But I saw your potential. Keeping you closeandutilizing your capabilities was a win-win. And you’ve proved my instincts correct.”
I step back, bumping into the headrest of the chair. “You’ve been watching me since I was a teenager?”
