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“For what? You didn’t sell me out to our worst enemy,” Mila says pleasantly. “You’re only a runner. Not a talker.”
I take a step back, feeling my throat constrict. It feels like someone has their hands wrapped around my neck.
“Okay.” I pull out a chair and sit down next to Mila. “Okay. He was a traitor. He betrayed you and Ilarion. The entire Zakharov Bratva. And I’m aware that if he had been anyone else, he’d be six feet under by now.” I meet Mila’s gaze. “But he is my father, and as unfair as it is to ask, as deserving as he may be of retaliation, I’m asking you as a friend: forgive him. Forget what he’s done. Let him live. Let him watch his grandson grow up. Let him be a part of my life, of Cee’s life. Please, Mila. Please.”
The calm in Mila’s eyes has been replaced with shadow. She grinds her teeth so hard that I can hear the grating. “He must have been a good father, for you to speak up for him like this.”
“We’ve had our issues,” I admit. “We still do. I feel betrayed by him a lot of the time, too. But the thing is, I know that his intentions have always been good. His only goal was to support and protect his family. He went about it the wrong way, but his heart was always in the right place.”
Mila regards me with a stoic expression. Then she sighs. “Fine,” she mutters. “Fine.”
I let out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding in. “Thank you.”
She gets to her feet, but her eyes move toward the French doors. I get a whiff of lavender and honeysuckle and the citrusy notes of Cee’s expensive perfume.
“Just so you know,” Mila says, lowering her voice so that only I can hear her, “I think you’re going about protecting Celine the wrong way, too. You and your father have that in common.” Then she looks up and raises her voice again. “Hey, Cee, how’d the meeting go?”
“Smoothly,” Cee replies as she walks over to us. “Where’s my nephew?”
“Somewhere in the gardens with Dima. I think I’ll go join them, actually. Excuse me.”
Celine turns to me with a smile. She’s changed into a silk beige romper. “Come with me; I want to show you something.”
“I was actually gonna go check on Dad,” I say as I get to my feet.
She waves away my plans. “He’s resting, apparently. Just leave him to it. This is more important.” Her bright smile betrays her excitement.
She grabs my arm and pulls me into the house, then takes me all the way up to a room on the second floor. It’s huge and airy and the wallpaper is a soft, warm blue that reminds me of a baby nursery.
Oh my god, is she pregnant?
“So,” she says, twirling on the spot, and pointing to the left and hand side corner of the room. “I’m thinking the bed goes over there. We can make it a bunk bed and add a slide if he’s into that sort of thing. And over there, wall-to-wall shelves for his books and toys.”
“Um, who is all this for, Celine?”
She rolls her eyes. “Adam, of course! He can’t room with you forever. He needs a space of his own.”
I’m hoping that she can’t hear how loud my heart is thudding against my chest. “Cee, this is all very unnecessary. I’m happy to share with Adam, and he’s not gonna care about having his own space.”
“He will when he’s older.”
“We won’t be here that long.”
Her face falls and her shoulders hunch. “Oh, right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay. I mean, this is your house. I don’t want to impose—”
She grabs my hands. “But it’s not an imposition; that’s what I want you to know. It would be so lovely if you stayed. All of you. We’ve lost so much time together—it just makes sense for you guys to live here. I’ve already asked Ilarion and he’s fine with it.”
“You’ve already asked Ilarion?”
“Mhm.” She nods. “So, what do you say?”
“I say…I’ll have to think about it.”
Her brows knit for a moment. “Well, in the meantime, Adam can use this room. And in the evening, I’ll introduce you to his nanny.”
“I’m sorry, hiswhat?”
