“What more can there be?” Padre asked.
“I hurt Isla deeply. She’s hesitant about coming.”
Rosa’s eyes went wide.
“Don’t worry. I’m going to do everything I can to make it up to her. But I’m confident she won’t agree to move to the estate with us… With me.” I stared at my sister, hoping she would be the voice of reason. “If I’m honest, I don’t know how I feel about her and the baby living here.”
“Are you insane?” Luca blurted. “You don’t know if youwant your daughter living with you? She’s your child. Our blood.”
“You know the dangers.” My brothers and sister had lost their mothers as I had. Falling in love and getting married hadn’t been high on my brothers’ to-do list. But unlike them, who’d only been told about their mother’s death, I had been present when mine had been gunned down. I couldn’t go through that again.
Roman handed me my glass and faded back.
“Then talk to a therapist,” my sister said. “This is your daughter we’re talking about. Or does it have to do with Isla?”
“No. I care about Isla very much. It’s why I went to her. I missed her.”
“But you don’t love her.” Rosa’s voice was laced with sadness.
“I didn’t say that.” I rubbed the side of my face and took a large gulp of brandy. I’d known having this conversation wouldn’t be easy, but I hadn’t anticipated the enormous guilt I’d feel. Everything that had gone wrong with Isla was my fault. “I do…” My throat instantly constricted. Why couldn’t I admit my feelings? “I just need time to figure this out.”
Rosa shook her head disappointedly. “When are Isla and the baby coming?”
“I’m hoping next week.”
“Hoping?” Padre hiked a displeased brow.
“She said she would come but she needed a little time.” I understood her worries. My father could be intimidating and harsh when he felt betrayed. The last thing I needed was for him to lash out at Isla.
“Not good enough. I want to see them right away. Tomorrow,” Padre demanded.
“Try to understand. She hasn’t had an easy time of it. I don’t want to disrupt her life.”
“Explain yourself, Ciro. My patience is waning.” If I didn’t defuse my father quickly, he would be on the jet within the hour.
“She hasn’t had much help financially.” I gulped as my stomach tightened.
My father furrowed his brows. “I’m sure I’m not going to like hearing this.”
“I’m sure you won’t.” I glanced at Roman, who’d remained more silent than I expected. “Isla works at a bistro. She works a lot and her friend Alba watches Pippa. Isla’s an excellent mother. Exemplary, really. But she’s exhausted.”
“And what are you doing about that?” Padre asked curtly.
“About what?”
“About her obvious struggles.” He glared at me.
“Currently, they’re in a hotel and Paolo is guarding them.” I regretted going down this road the second my father’s eyes bulged.
“Why are they in a hotel?” It was like he could read my thoughts. I didn’t want my family to know about Isla’s crappy car or that her apartment complex wasn’t safe.
Shit.
Isla was a proud, independent woman, but my father had high expectations for his family. Once he knew where Isla and the baby had been living, he’d probably disown me for leaving them in California.
“Are all these questions necessary?” Roman interjected.
Finally!
