Josh sticks the finger of his free hand in his mouth while studying me through his lashes.
“I’m Lina,” the woman says, making her way over to me.
Coming out of my haze, I push to my feet. Do I shake her hand or kiss her cheeks? How does she feel about housing a fugitive? Because that’s what I must seem to be. Before I can decide what to do, she pulls me into a hug.
“I’m so happy to finally meet you,” she says, her voice warm.
“Thank you for putting me up.”
“Are you kidding?” She holds me at arm’s length. “You’re family.”
I can’t help but notice the scars on her arms. What happened to her?
“You’re welcome here as long as you like,” she continues. “Our home is yours.”
“Thank you.” I smile for her benefit while anxiety quickens my pulse.
This changes everything. Damian has a wife—a pregnant wife—and a child. There’s no way I can tell him the truth now. I can’t put his family in danger. I remember Maxime’s promise only too vividly. He vowed he’d use anyone and anything against my brother to get his way. As long as Damian honors their deal, Maxime won’t have a reason to go after the family my brother so clearly loves. I better make sure Damian honors that deal.
“We’ll catch up in the morning,” she says, taking Josh’s hand from Damian’s. “Come on, baby, back to bed with you.” With a last smile in my direction, she leaves Damian and I alone.
He stares after them as they walk down the hallway.
“You have a wife? A son?” I ask, still bowled over.
Pride warms his eyes. “Josh is from Lina’s first marriage. I adopted him.”
“She’s pregnant,” I say stupidly, still unable to process the information.
“Yes.” His chest swells. “Six months.”
“Wow, Damian. Congratulations.” Emotions clog up my throat. “I’m so happy for you. She’s beautiful. She seems really nice.”
“Lina is…” Crossing his arms, he leans a shoulder against the wall. “I don’t have words to describe her. Amazing doesn’t do her justice.”
I never thought I’d see the day. My brother really is a lost case. It makes my smile broad and my heart warm. “You deserve happiness. How did you meet?”
He rubs a hand over his face. There’s a short hesitation before he speaks. “She’s Dalton’s daughter.”
“The man who put you in jail?” I exclaim. “The man who stole your discovery?”
His regard becomes closed-off. “It’s a long story.”
“How long have you been married?”
“Little over a year.”
I do a quick calculation. “When did you get out?”
Understanding the line of my questioning, he says, “I married Lina a week after I’d gotten out.”
“A week?” I exclaim, sensing more behind the story.
“It’s complicated. Why don’t you tell me why you need a false identity instead?”
I think fast. “I had to get away.”
“I’ve gathered.” He scrutinizes me. “Why?”
“I wrote to you, you know,” I say, clutching my hands behind my back.
“The last letter I got was three years ago.”
“I know.” I lower my gaze.
It was the letter Maxime forced me to write in Venice on the luxury hotel stationary. It said I met a foreigner, fell in love, and left the country with him. That I was so happy I was never coming back. The bitter betrayal of finding out Maxime never mailed any letter I wrote to Damian after that is still a pain I’m battling to process.
Since I can’t explain why it seems like I abandoned him, I can only say, “I’m sorry.”
“I understand.” His lips quirk. “Love can be all-consuming.”
“It’s not that,” I say quickly. “Maxime…” Shit, just saying his name is like wringing my heart in my chest. “He’s very possessive.”
Questions dance in his eyes as he narrows them a fraction. “I see.”
“Things didn’t work out between us, Damian.” It’s not difficult to act. The hurt must be written on my face.
“What happened, Zee?”
I give him as much truth as I can. “He’s marrying someone else.”
Damian’s expression darkens. “I’m guessing you’re not on the run because he dumped you.”
“No.” I fiddle with the hem of my jacket. “He didn’t want to let me go.”
“He expected you to be his mistress?”
“It’s an arranged marriage.”
Damian drops his arms at his sides. “That son of a bitch.”
“You know how it is with powerful families.”
“Like hell I do.”
This is not how the conversation should be going. I can’t turn Maxime into Damian’s enemy. I can’t endanger my brother’s family. Damian deserves this happiness more than anyone I know.
“Oh, come on, Damian. Don’t tell me marrying your enemy’s daughter the week after you’d gotten out of jail wasn’t business.”
He stares at me with a broody look.
“Maxime and I,” I say, “we couldn’t work things out. Let’s just say we didn’t agree about how I left. It’s complicated, to quote your earlier words. I just don’t want him to come after me, okay? I don’t want to be found, that’s all.”
He searches my eyes. “You love him.”
“I’ll get over it.”
Walking over, he places a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.” When he pulls away, I say, “There’s more you should know.”
I sit down again, hiding my expression behind a veil of hair. “You and Maxime aren’t exactly strangers to each other.”
“What?” He takes the chair opposite me and leans his elbows on the table. “How do I know this asshole?”
“I don’t think you’ve ever met,” I say, glancing at him, “but you are doing business.”
“How’s that possible?”
“You sell diamonds to him.”
“Wait.” He leans back in the chair, a frown pulling his eyebrows together. “The Belshaws? That Maxime?”
“Yes.”
“Fuck, Zee.” He regards me with disbelief. “He’s mafia. The mafia.”
“I know.”
“Now I understand why you needed to become someone else.” His gaze pierces mine. “How did you meet?”
I think back to the story Maxime told me when he admitted why he kidnapped me, the one he was going to tell Damian if he ever had to manipulate my brother into honoring their diamond deal by confessing
