Page 46 of Righteous Enforcer
What is she looking for?
What does she see?
A monster?
A stranger?
I fight the urge to fill the silence, instead waiting to let her process.
But holy shit, this need for her approval is terrifying.
“You saved us from the bad men.”
I swallow, carefully kneeling down to her level, worried my bigness makes her nervous. “I did. I’m glad I did.”
Mirabella reaches out one small hand and places it against my cheek. “Do we get to live with you now?”
"Yes," I answer without hesitation.
Eva stiffens beside me. "Adriano, We haven't discussed?—"
"There's nothing to discuss." I cut her off, keeping my voice level for Mirabella's sake even as anger begins to simmer. "The Bratva wants you. They will never stop hunting you. And now that I know about my daughter, do you honestly think I'll let you take her and disappear again?"
Eva's eyes flash. "You can't just decide our future like that."
"Like you decided mine when you let me think you were dead. Like you decided Mirabella's when you denied her a father?"
"I was protecting her?—"
"You were running. That's what you do, Eva. You run. From the truth, from consequences, from me." It’s fucking hard not to yell. "You stole years I can never get back.”
Eva flinches, but I don't stop.
"So forgive me if I'm not particularly concerned about your feelings on where you should live. As far as I'm concerned, your judgment has been suspect from the start."
Mirabella’s brow furrows as she uses both hands to turn my attention to her. “Are you mad?”
I suck in a breath. “I want to be your father. I don’t want to miss any more of your life.”
She slips from the bed and tucks herself next to me.
My heart swells.
This little action fills me with intense emotions I’ve never felt.
I glance up at Eva. "I'll make this simple. You want to leave when this is over? Fine. When you've told me exactly why the Bratva wants you dead, when Ivan Vasiliev is no longer breathing, you can walk away. But Mirabella stays with me."
Eva’s eyes widen and her face goes pale. "You can't take her from me."
"I'm not taking anything. I'm reclaiming what was stolen." I brush a strand of hair from Mirabella's forehead, marveling at how something so delicate could come from me. "She deserves stability, protection. A home where she isn't constantly running."
Mirabella looks between us, I’m sure sensing the tension. “Can we stay, Mama?”
I see the maternal ferocity in Eva’s gaze. It’s not so different from the protective instinct raging through my blood.
“We’ll stay for now,” Eva says, more to Mirabella than me.
But what choice does she have?
