AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I pat her knee and push her away gently. “Go and find Dima,” I chide. “Tell him that we’re going to tighten the noose around Benedict’s neck. It’s time to end him.”
She nods with a cryptic smile. “Whatever you say, boss.”
37
TAYLOR
“Where’s Grandpa?” I ask the moment Adam runs up to me. It’s no surprise my son is still in the garden, but he’s with Mila and Dima. Not Dad.
“Grandpa said he was tired,” Adam explains. “He went up to take a nap.”
“When?”
“What’s the matter, Taylor?” Mila butts in. “You sound worried.”
I put Adam down and kiss the top of his head. “Why don’t we head inside? Maybe get you something to eat?”
“I already ate. Mila made me sandwiches. They tasted bad, but then Uncle Illy came in and made me some pasta,” he says, beaming the entire time. “He cooks even better than you, Mama.”
“Does he?” I ask distractedly, looking back over my shoulder toward the house.
When we arrived back at Zakharov House, Cee went straight to her room to change. I came out here hoping to corner our father again. He is proving to be annoyingly slippery, though.
“Yeah! Can you ask him to teach you how to make pasta, Mama?”
“Later, baby. Wanna go inside and read a little?”
“I wanna stay outside with Dima!” he says, darting toward the grass. I’m left standing there, wondering when I lost my top rank in his Favorite People poll.
“You okay, Taylor?” Mila asks.
“No,” I retort. “Where is my father?”
“Probably in his room. Unless, of course, he’s snooping around and spying on us again. That’s also a possibility.” I can’t quite tell if she’s kidding or not.
“He’s not doing that anymore, Mila.”
“Can you guarantee that?”
“I can, but apparently, that doesn’t matter.”
She gives me a sheepish smile. “In order to believe someone, you need to trust them. No offense, but I’m not about to trust your father simply because he’s your father.”
She’s very calm, but her movements are tense. There’s a rigidity in her posture that suggests she’s holding back.
“He’s an old man.”
“Old men are capable of doing horrible things,” she says. “I know from personal experience.”
I take a deep breath and try to keep my calm. “Mila, listen—”
“No,youlisten.” She takes three long strides toward me, then pulls out a chair, scraping the deck as she drags it away from the table. “Sit down.”
“I’d rather stand.”
“Suit yourself,” she says with an unconcerned shrug. “The night that my father died, your father was in the house. He was on-duty,” she says. “He was the only one who knew the truth of what happened. And then, shortly afterwards, Benedict Bellasio started spreading a ‘rumor’ that, in this case, happened to be true. Of course, at the time, it felt like a lucky guess. But when we found out about Archie’s betrayal,, I realized that it wasn’t a lucky guess at all. Your father sold my secret to Benedict Bellasio.”
I can feel shooting jolts of energy rushing up my spine. “He—You—Fuck, Mila. I am so sorry.”
