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“But I’m her father!” the man growls.
“Some father,” I say, lightly.
The man whirls around. “Who the hell are you?”
Then, his eyes light with recognition. “You’re the man from the TV. The tycoon.”
“I’m also Mila’s father. And Eve’s partner.” I sip at the coffee, watching him from over the rim of the cup.
When the man’s face turns red, I simply raise a brow and ask, “Where have you been?”
“Excuse me?” he bites out.
I ignore the way the nurse is watching our interaction with wide eyes and continue. “Eve’s been on the news for more than a month. She’s been attacked, harassed, abused, and yet now you’re here. So, what I’m asking is, where were you when she needed you?”
The guilt in Harrison Taylor’s brown eyes doesn’t satisfy me. They remind me of the terrible sorrow in the eyes of the woman I love when she told me she was done with people discarding her.
I take a threatening step towards him. “When Thomas raped her, that’s on you. When he starved her while she was pregnant, that’s on you. When he beat her while she was pregnant, that’s on you as well!”
When the woman whom I presume is Eve’s mother pales at my words and her father ope
ns his mouth, I hiss, “Don’t bother covering for that bastard. I’ve seen the hospital reports with my own eyes: malnourished, unexplained bruises. My father rescued her while Thomas was beating her. So fuck your excuses!”
I try to temper the fury, and the sadistic part of me reveilles in the way Harrison reels from my words, all the blood having leeched from his face.
“I’m not letting you anywhere near her. You nearly destroyed her while you had her. You don’t get to see her while she’s vulnerable just so you can hurl accusations at her or hurt her in any way. And if I have my way, you will never see her again!”
Harrison’s hand clutches onto his wife’s arm at that point and I can see how he is trying to keep his voice steady. “We want to see our daughter. And we want to apologize.”
I still before baring my teeth. “Why should I believe you?”
His face is white as a sheet and his wife steps in front of him, a protective gesture, one that reminds me of Eve.
“Go ask Eve,” she says, quietly. “Go ask her if she would like to see us. And if she says no, we’ll leave. But that’s our child in there, Mr. Wolfe. We might have done wrong by her, but that’s still our child.”
I don’t want to let them past, but the steadiness in the woman’s eyes makes me grit my teeth.
I whirl around and make my way to Eve’s room.
20
Eve
I stare at the two people whom I have not seen in over five years.
My dad looks much older than I remember, and weary.
My mother looks tired, her eyes red-rimmed.
Zayn has a hand on my shoulder, and I could sense his obvious unhappiness.
“You can see them later,” he snarled at me when I told him to let them in, my heart pounding so hard that I thought it might jump out of my chest.
“No,” I fought back. “I want to see them now!”
The furious expression on his face melted when I quietly asked him to stand by me.
“But not alone.”
