I'd whispered the rest earlier, when Natalia couldn't hear: no matter what, Pasha doesn't come near this woman. I don't know her, and he doesn't need his world upended by news of a long-lost mother rising from the dead.
Besides, she could be lying. I could have let in the wrong woman entirely.
Fuck. I wish Nikolai was here.
I don't offer tea.
I don't ask if she's okay.
I definitely don't tell her Pasha's name.
Instead, I lean forward, elbows on my knees. "So. You think my husband's son is yours."
Her eyes widen at the word husband. I can practically see her recalculating.
"I don't think," she says, stronger than I expected. "I know. Damon is my son."
"His name is not Damon. And leaving a baby outside an apartment building doesn't exactly scream maternal rights."
She flinches. "I was nineteen. I was barely surviving."
"So was he. He was six months old."
Natalia swallows hard. "I didn't come to cause trouble..."
"I don't care why you came. I want to know why you left your innocent, helpless baby on a doorstep."
She looks older now than she did at the gate. Like the adrenaline wore off and she's just a tired woman who's run out of plans.
"I wasn't the right person to raise him," she says, voice shaking. "I had no money. No job. I was drinking. I was a mess."
She wrings her hands. I eye the chipped nails.. No wedding ring.
"Why not a safe haven?" I ask. "A church? A hospital? Literally anywhere but the street."
"I wanted him to have a chance. Not go into the system. Not be lost. I knew Nikolai would take care of him."
"So you knew exactly which doorstep was his."
"He used to come around the block in this big black car. I figured anyone who looked that powerful had to have resources. I thought maybe he'd do right by him."
I stare at her. "So your master plan was to stalk a Russian mobster, drop your infant on his doorstep, and hope for the best?"
"I didn't know he was..." She breaks off. "I didn't know exactly who he was."
"No. You just knew he was powerful enough to make your problem go away."
Her chin trembles. "We had a one-night stand. I didn't plan the pregnancy."
I bite back the guilt threatening to rise. I can't afford to get soft.
"You abandoned a baby," I say flatly. "You left a newborn outside in the cold."
"There was a note!"
"Which said what? 'Good luck, sucker'?"
"I said I loved him." Tears spill. "I still do. I never stopped."
