Page 29 of Lust and Honor

I rub both eyes with my thumb and forefinger, disbelief pouring out of me as I mutter, “How the hell is this possible? I used a condom.”

“You know those things aren’t a hundred percent guarantee.”

I gape at him. “If that’s the case, I might as well start scouring Italy for kids who slipped through my condoms.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” he says. “You’ve either been with our whores or with famous models and actresses. Trust me, every single one of them would’ve jumped at the chance to have your kid and live easy for the rest of their lives. If it happened, they’d have come running with baby announcements and glitter.”

“Then why didn’t Ava do that?”

“She grew up in a closed-off world. To her, men are split into two categories: those like her father and those who aren’t. For four years, she built you up in her mind as some honorable hero. Then, after that night with you, when she learned who you really are, she shoved you into the ‘hell’ category.”

My eyes narrow. “What do you mean she built me up as some honorable hero for four years?”

“You two met long before that night.”

I strain my brain but nothing comes. Carlo lets out a short laugh. “You know what’s funny, Maxim? You and I met the mothers of our kids on the same day.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Montrano village, seven years ago.”

Something clicks in my head. “I saved a girl from being raped.”

His eyes gleam. “And we tied her attacker’s body, along with two of our traitors, to horses and dragged them through the dirt all the way home. That was the day I met Emily, and you met Ava.”

My memory races back to that girl, bruised and battered, sitting on a bed. “Shit. I gave her my card that day. And that fool showed up four years later.”

He smirks, amused. “Knowing you, you can size up a woman’s panties with one glance. How the hell didn’t you recognize her?”

“Because that day, she was just a kid, beaten to hell, face black and blue.”

I let out a sharp breath, plant my elbows on my knees, and cradle my head in my hands. The image of Carrot’s innocent face and scared black eyes flashes before me, and panic crawls under my skin.

“I can’t be a fucking dad, Carlo. I just can’t,” I say quietly.

I straighten up and look at him. “I can skin a man alive. I can cut off his dick, cook it, and make him eat it while he’s still breathing. I can fuck a woman until she passes out. I can put a bullet in an enemy’s head from miles away. But being a dad? I’m not built for this shit. This is a goddamn nightmare.”

He meets my gaze, his voice steady and reassuring. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

“So what happens to the Carrot?”

His eyes light up with that look he gets when he’s cooking up something wicked. “Leave her to me,” he says after standing up.

“What’s your plan?”

“Do you trust me, Maxim?”

“You know I do.”

He claps a hand on my shoulder. “Then let me handle it.”

***

The first finger I slice off fills the warehouse with the bastard’s screams. I dangle the severed finger in front of his face and sneer, “Not feeling so tough now, are you?”

I move to the second finger, and he starts begging again. “I swear, I didn’t know she was connected to you! Nico said they were his daughter and granddaughter!”

I cut off the second finger then let his ear-splitting wails die down. “Where’s Nico now to save your sorry ass?”