He hesitated, his eyes closing for a fleeting second. “That man’s name was Kenji. Kenji Morgan.”
My eyes widened in shock, and my heart began hammering in my chest. “Kenji Morgan?” I swallowed hard, rising to my feet. “That’s…that’s my father’s name.”
He nodded.
My hands flew in my hair, a wave of strange heat spreading through my body. I placed my hand on my beating heart as if having a panic attack.
“You’re… are you…” I stuttered, tears welling in my eyes. “Are you telling me that all this time that I thought my father abandoned us, he’s been dead?”
“I didn’t know who he was at the time.”
“Oh, God, my head’s spinning.” I sat back on the couch, my face in my palms. “I hated the man for years. I called him a deadbeat dad.” My voice broke into sobs. “I thought he’d left us, and you’re telling me you killed him?”
He lowered his head in dismay.
“How long have you known?” I looked at him, my face contorted into a faint frown. “How long have you known that I’m the daughter of the man you killed years ago?”
“Since the day of our wedding,” he answered. “Your grandfather revealed it to me himself.”
Tears streamed down my cheeks uncontrollably.
I was angry at him, at Richard, and at myself for hating the man. The truth was a hard pill to swallow, especially after finding out that I’d been wrong this whole time.
My father had never abandoned us. He’d been murdered in cold blood by the man I was starting to fall for. How twisted was that?
There was no point asking why he never told me; he couldn’t have. But even though I understood how difficult it was to always tell the truth, it still didn’t make it hurt any less.
I rose to my feet, put my panties back on, and walked away while buttoning up my shirt. Adrik didn’t stop me, though his gaze followed me until I disappeared from his sight.
Chapter 24 – Adrik
Watching her leave with a broken heart shattered mine in a way I never thought possible. I knew this would happen, and that’s why I kept it to myself.
This was Richard’s parting gift to me, creating a rift between my wife and me. If he hadn’t planted that seed of curiosity in her, none of this would’ve happened. I may or may not have told her the truth.
But he had to open that big mouth of his and ruin what I spent months building. And to think it was his idea to keep the information to myself. The night he’d told me who Kenji Morgan was, he urged me not to say a word to his granddaughter.
According to him, she’d been through a lot already, and it would be pointless to dump that on her. At the time, I thought he was looking out for her, but I knew better now. Richard had already planned from that moment to use that secret against me later on.
I hadn’t seen through his lies.
In my defense, I hadn’t initially cared about Emika or this marriage. I thought it was stupid and just wanted to fulfill my obligations to the brotherhood. Pakhan Artem called, and I answered. No big deal. Nothing important.
Except it turned out to be the most important decision I ever made. If I’d known that things were going to turn around so fast, I would’ve told her earlier on. I was a fool to believe that I was immune to heartbreak, that even if she found out the truth, nothing would change.
It was crazy how she’d managed to slither her way into my heart in such a short time. She’d broken down my high walls without even trying and reminded me of what it felt like to be human again. Around her, I wasn’t the same mean and ruthlesskiller that the rest of the world knew me to be. I was different. Calmer. More understanding. And vulnerable.
I was vulnerable to her touch, her smile, her laugh, and the way her eyes lit up whenever she was happy. I was vulnerable to her tears and the way her shoulders trembled whenever she wept.
She was my better half, the light in my darkness, and my kryptonite. She was the one who transformed my mansion from a house into a home. She brought light and life to the space, and because of her, I always looked forward to coming home.
I’d fought battles—won some, lost some—and I’d wrestled men twice my size. Yet nothing scared me like the thought of losing her. We had something good going on, and I didn’t want to ruin it.
Emika had saved my life three times in one day—three fuckin’ times. First, when she pulled a gun on her grandfather. Then, when she pushed me away from the window just before the gunfire. And lastly, when she put three bullets into an enemy who would’ve shot at us if she’d hesitated.
She’d become a killer to save me. In my book, that was the defining characteristic of a perfect wife. She’d lost herself just to fit in. She’d survived what should’ve killed her, and everything could be traced back to me.
Emika was right when she said,“Ever since I met you, my life has sucked!”
