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Some quiet communication passed between the two of them, and then Elias looked at me again.

He’d been on what I suspected was his best behavior, his distance present, but his manners impeccable, the charm that seemed natural undeniable.

But now something had changed.

There was no pretense in his look, only honesty.

“These circumstances are not what I would want for Davit,” he said.

“Meaning?” I asked, trying not to look offended.

“You have no idea what you are now a part of,” he said.

“I have some idea,” I countered.

“No, you don’t. But you’ll learn,” he said.

“What does that mean, Elias?”

“It means that this life that you’re part of now, that your baby is a part of now, it’s not easy. And it’s dangerous.”

“And?” I asked, wondering if he was trying to run me off.

“And, are you ready for it?”

“Elias, why don’t you just say what you mean?”

“I mean this is lovely, you and Davit playing house, but there’s another option,” he said.

“Elias—” Davit interjected.

I shook my head, then looked at Davit. “I’d like to hear what he has to say,” I said.

Davit looked riotous, but he didn’t speak.

“What option is that?” I asked.

“We could set you up, occasionally visit the child, let you live somewhat of a normal life,” he said.

“Without Davit,” I said.

“Without Davit, and the attendant dangers that come with being associated with the Petrosyan family,” he said.

“I appreciate the offer, but no,” I said.

“No? Not even if I assure you that you would be taken care of, that you and the child would want for nothing?”

“Maybe not financially, but my child would want to see his father more than four times a year. I don’t know how much Davit has told you about me,” I said.

“He’s told me nothing, not really,” he said.

“Maybe that’s right, but you’ve done your research. So you know I lost my mother when I was very young,” I said.

“I do,” he said.

“So I wouldn’t do that to my child,” I said.

“But you did before. You ran.”

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