Page 160 of Bleed with Me

“Hello, sweetheart,” Dad’s voice cut through my brain with fake sweetness. “I’m glad you—”

“Cut the bullshit,” I snapped, ignoring the guilt over my behavior. Grandpa hated when I acted like that. “What do you want?”

“The same as the last time,” he replied nonchalantly. “Return home. We need to talk.”

“That’s how phones work. Talk now.” My feet bounced against the car floor. I so wasn’t in the mood for this.

“Why don’t you come home, Nina?” he asked like the caring father he certainly wasn’t for the past month. “I just want to have dinner with you to discuss your future.”

“My future is my business,” I retorted. “Now, if you excuse me—”

“Nina!” he snarled, his mask slipping for a split second. “You don’t understand what you’re forcing me to do!”

“Me?” I shouted, fisting my palm. “You’re selling me out like cattle!”

“I’m saving our family!”

“You’re saving yourself,” I seethed, blood rushing in my ears. “And I won’t help you. This is your fight.”

“It’s our fight, sweetheart,” he said in a chilling tone. “A Valentino always returns home. See you soon.”

I glared at the phone. The audacity! As if I’d ever step back into his house willingly!

I threw the phone onto the passenger seat when it began vibrating again, then fired up the engine. I wasn’t in the right state of mind to return to Dorian. Instead, I decided to visit Lucas. His new hacking den was only half an hour away, and I could use his company and insight.

“You’re back soon,” he said when he unlocked the heavy security door.

“Yeah, unpredictable circumstances,” I grimaced, walking past him.

The entire space was a single room, filled with monitors mounted on the walls or standing on the long desk. The purple keyboard sat proudly against the biggest screen, where numbers and letters scrolled quickly; his massive, comfortable chair faced the board with photos, names, and colorful notes. Opposite it was the cheapest couch money could buy. The comfortable one had been sacrificed to keep the internet running. His financial situation was terrible.

“Tell me what’s bothering you, my little patient,” he said sweetly, sitting beside me on the couch. He crossed his legs and rested an elbow on his knee to support his chin as he stared at me over his glasses, reminding me of my last therapist.

The words poured out of me. The argument. The adoption. My childhood. Sonny’s threats. Dad’s phone call. By the time I finished, my throat was dry.

“Well…” Lucas scratched the back of his neck, pursing his lips. “Motherhood is the worst, I presume.”

“Is it?” I looked at him curiously. “My father trying to sacrifice me. Or my ‘fiancé’,” I made quotation marks in the air, “wishing to beat the shit out of me aren’t very appealing options either.”

“They are avoidable options.” He shrugged, walking to the tiny counter with plastic cups. “The Zhumagulovs will make your father and his plans disappear like a reeking stench. You won’t have to see him ever again if you don’t want to.” He handed me a bottle of sparkling water and plopped back. The couch cracked, making me lift an eyebrow, but Lucas ignored it. “Whatever Giovanni dragged you into can be solved. But the adoption?”

His lips pressed into a thin line as he cast me a sympathetic look and shook his head.

“Fuck,” I mumbled. There was no point in saying more. He summarized it all perfectly.

“Yeah, fuck.” Lucas poured himself a cup of water, his face twisting with confusion. “Does Dorian really want you to be the mother of his child?”

“Excuse me?” My voice jumped an octave. “Who else should he want?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, biting his lower lip. “There are better options than you and your deeply rooted mommy issues.”

“Says the guy with daddy issues,” I snapped, glaring at him.

“Yes.” He nodded without hesitation. “That’s why I’m not trying to become a daddy.”

“I’m not trying to become a mother either!” I yelled, abruptly standing up. “Dorian threw it on me. What the fuck should I do?”

“Ask yourself if you’re able to forgive and forget,” Lucas replied. “You can’t just accept the girl and bury her in your hate and trauma.”