I look up from the report. He’s sitting behind his desk, hands folded in front of him like we’re discussing a business transaction. “I wasn’t,” I say.
“You weren’t.”
“No.”
“You were going to let me live in the same house as my children, provide for them, protect them, and never tell me they’re mine.”
“Yes.”
His jaw tightens. “Why?”
“Because you’re a monster. Because I saw what you are that night five years ago, and I knew I could never let you have them.”
“What I am? I’m their father.”
“You’re a killer. A criminal. You traffic drugs and weapons, and you execute people who inconvenience you. That’s what you are.”
“And yet you married me. Moved into my house. Took my money.”
“I had no choice!”
“You always had a choice. You could have refused the marriage. Let your parents face the consequences of their debts. But you chose security over pride. So don’t pretend you’re a victim here.”
I stand up. “I am a victim. You forced this marriage?—”
“I offered a solution to your family’s problems. Your father accepted. You agreed. No one held a gun to your head.”
“You held my family’s future hostage!”
“That’s called leverage. It’s how business works.” He stands as well, placing his hands flat on the desk. “What I want to know is why you recognized me at that wedding and said nothing.”
“Because telling you would trap my children in your world. A world of violence and crime and death. I’ve spent all these yearskeeping them safe from that. I wasn’t going to throw it away just because my father’s debt brought us together.”
“Safe from me. Their own father.”
“Yes.”
“Did it ever occur to you that I had a right to know?”
“No. You had no rights. You were a stranger I slept with once. A mistake I’ve regretted every day since.”
Something flashes in his eyes. Anger, maybe. “A mistake that resulted in two children.”
“My children. Not yours.”
“The DNA test says otherwise.”
“Fuck the DNA test. I carried them. I gave birth to them. I raised them alone while you were off running your criminal empire. They’re mine.”
“And mine. Biology doesn’t care about your feelings on the matter.”
“Biology is irrelevant. You contributed DNA. That’s all. I did everything else.”
He walks around the desk slowly. I don’t back away even though every instinct tells me to run.
“Let me make sure I understand,” he says. “You met me five years ago. We had sex. You got pregnant. You tried to find me afterward, learned who I was, and decided to keep the pregnancy secret because you were afraid of my world.”
“Yes.”
