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CHAPTER TEN
I’m so stunned that I sink onto the bed and put my hand on my chest. Did he just…walk away? Does he think I’m unworthy of an explanation as to why Vadim is questioning who my father is? Why I look like someone from his past?WhoI resemble?
I think I already know the answer to that question, at least. My stomach is turning with the thought of it. It’s not hard to work out. I just don’t want to believe it. Because surely Vadim didn’t meanher—the woman Milton was auctioned off to as a child. His abuser. Because that would be insanely fucked up.
It’d make sense why Maxim kicked me out and why Vadim would be questioning what he’s doing. Don’t I already know Milton likes the look of me? Many people have hinted at the lack of blonds dating him, which makes me believe that I probably share the same hair color as her. Maybe more.
“You’re made for me.”Horror washes over me as I think about his words. Is that what he meant when he said that? Does that mean…he’s in love with Anaya? Orwas,given that she’s now dead? Has everything she did to him fucked him up so badly that he’d want his own copy of her?
Standing, I can’t wait for him to come to me. He can’t just walk away without giving me an explanation. It doesn’t work like that.
Ripping open the door, I go from room to room, finding him in the kitchen, sitting by the island with a glass of amber liquid. His eyes are unfocused like he’s lost in his thoughts.
“Tell me it’s not true,” I demand, deciding to be the storm to rock the waves. “Tell me I don’t look like her.”
He’s silent for a moment as he unbuttons the top of his shirt. Then he sighs, “You look like her.”
“I…” Oh my god. It really is true. I grab the wall before I fall, gasping with shock. “Are you seriously telling me… that’s why you want me? Because I look like her?”
“No.”
“But I look like her! What the hell does that mean?”
“It meansnothing. I’ve studied your family tree for months trying to find a link or an explanation. But you’re not related to her in any way, nor are you anything alike in nature. It’s just an uncanny resemblance, that’s all.”
“That’s all?” My voice cracks. “How am I meant to know… that it’s me you want and not her?” He’s off the stool in a second and grabbing me. Tears flood my eyes as I try and shove him off. “No! Don’t you fucking touch me!” Lashing out, I hit his chest, not that it fazes him. “You weren’t even going to tell me, were you?”
Fighting me, he puts me up onto the nearest counter and then does something I don’t expect. His arms wrap around me, and he hugs me.
“It’s you.” His scent threatens to calm the tsunami of uncertainty inside of me. Pushing him away this time is a weak attempt, and my eyes close when his lips meet the side of my head. I accept the comfort, giving into it because I’m an idiot and tired of fighting things I don’t understand. “I’ll admit the resemblance sparked the interest, but nothing else past that.”
“How can I believe you? And my dad not being my dad?”
“That’s speculation—he probably is.”
“But he might not be. And now I’m not sure you even want me either. That it’s her you see when you fuck me.”
“Of course not—I was a child. It was sexual against my will. Anaya worshipped a different kind of God.” He avoids eye contact while I gape at him. “The rapes happened when there were rituals. I was passed around her worshippers, who were just pedophiles. Molesters. She always carried out the worst of it in the end.” He shakes his head. “I despised her.” Lifting his hand, he wipes away my tears. “But I do not hate you. I don’t see her when I’m with you.”
My chest hurts. “I’m so confused. How can I look like her? Did you know I did when you came to Blake’s clubhouse?”
“No. I joined Devil Horns as a prospect to get information about the whereabouts of two of her worshippers. Blake’s family members—his uncles. Getting into the MC was the only way to find out where they were so I could bring hell down on them like I promised. Coming across you was coincidental.”
I had no idea. Blake never talked about any of his family. I just assumed it was only him and Nick. My head is swimming with information overload. “And when you saw me?”
“A shock I struggled with, at first. How could I be forced to protect someone who resembled the one I wanted to kill the most? I was still trying to find Anaya—she’d gone into hiding.”
I shiver with coldness. “You must’ve hated me.”
“You share similar features, but you’re different. That I can promise.” I lean my forehead against his chin, and he kisses me again, filling my cold body with warmth I’m not sure I should be feeling.
“I stopped you from finding them, didn’t I? Blake’s uncles.”
“When I found you in Stonehill… I had to see you. I had to fuck with your head as you fucked with mine… But then I found Anaya shortly after and located the ledgers she kept of all the men who attended the rituals, including Blake’s uncles.”
Is the real reason he stays away from me because I look like her?
Fuck—I can’t think about this. It’s too much. I could overthink everything. Delve into the doubt that I resemble a woman who abused him and what that really means on a deeper level. Or I could trust him. Trust everything he’s just said, and we both move forward. It’s not like anything about us is normal anyway. “I’ll need answers eventually. I need to know if I have a different father, even if we never figure out who else it could be…I just need to know.”
