Yes.I can’t say that, or anything else, but I nod because I’ll never forget watching what he did to anyone brave enough to try to escape, and that’s exactly why I was with him until I was pushing fucking thirty.
His smile widens as he pats the cut on my face then straightens up and retrieves his chair, pulling it in front of me before he sits so we’re almost knee to knee. “I’m touched. Remembering something like that means I left an impression on you.”
No, he terrified the hell out of me after growing up in a goddamn cult. Even after I accepted my life with him as normal and unchangeable, I was still afraid.
If that’s his definition ofleaving an impression,well, then I guess he fucking did.
“What do you think I should do to an omega who not only ran, but managed to stay hidden and survive multiple murder attempts for a little over two and a half years?” Hayk starts cleaning his nails with the pocket knife, sliding it over the tips of his sausage fingers before wiping the blade on his jeans. “Especially one who not only fucked with my business, but tore my family apart.”
I frown and my head jerks back as if he slapped me.
What in the actual fuck is he talking about?
He adopted me so he had papers and a legal reason for me to be at his house, but I didn’t think Hayk was delusional enough to believe that made us a fucking family.
He laughs as he sits back in his chair, black eyes dancing while his potbelly shakes in time with that terrible sound. “I can see your wheels turning, Olive. I don’t think you’re going to work it out, though. We did too good a job hiding it for almost fifteen years.”
My pulse starts pounding in my ears again, my heart rate spiking thanks to the overall delivery of that fucking nugget of fear-inducing vague as fuck information.
Hiding.
What the fuck was this sociopath hiding the entire time I was working for him?
“Let me spare you the headache.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet, flips it open, then waits as he says, “Jay was my son, Olive.Jalal.”
Yeah fucking right.
I don’t believe that for one goddamn second.
Jay hated Hayk the most, more than even me, and that isn’t something you can fake. Hatred like that isn’t as natural when it comes to parent-child relationships. I know that first hand. It took way too long for me to hate my father as much as Jay hated Hayk, and I still have brief moments where it makes me sad to think about. It’s like grieving but instead of mourning someone who died, you mourn someone alive and breathing, and letting that consume you is dangerous.
I got close, and I know Jay was there. If they shared DNA, he would have had moments of sadness and I refuse to believe otherwise.
“So naive,” Hayk says with a sigh as he pulls something from the folds of his wallet. “So fucking stupid.”
I watch him unfold the paper before holding it between us, close enough for me to read every bullshit word.
It’s a birth certificate.
Jalal Petrosyan.
And Hayk is listed as the father.
“That doesn’t mean shit,” I spit as he reaches out and removes my gag. “You can easily fake that. You aren’t proving anything by showing me that stupid piece of paper.”
He just smirks and goes back into his wallet, then starts showing me photos.
A little boy who is very clearly Jay. Playing baseball, dressed for Halloween, birthday parties and Christmas mornings. There are pictures of him with Hayk at different school functions, including what I’m guessing is a high school graduation andwhen he shows me the next one, I can physically feel my heart sink then crack down the middle.
Same day, same event. Hayk and Jay, and Emery and Dante. All three of them in cap and gown while this son of a bitch smiles like a proud father.
Without warning, I lurch forward and vomit, spit and bile exploding out of my body, all over the floor and Hayk’s boots.
No.
No, this can’t be true.
“You’re lying,” I mumble, then spit again. “It isn’t true.” It can’t be. I remember when they turned eighteen. We were together on Jay’s birthday and celebrated all three of theirs because they were so close together and we weren’t sure we’d be able to see each other for theirs. The photo Hayk just dropped at my feet, if it’s true, means they were living a double life, living as normal teenage boys when they were away from me, doing all the things I never had a chance to do then coming to my nest when…
