Page 20 of Scarred Ruin

“He did.”

“You should probably allow our guest to take a breath, malyshka.”

“I’m not a baby any longer, Papa.” She pulled away, huffing as she looked up at her father.

He threw his hands out, giving her a funny face on purpose. “I don’t care if you’re fifty years old, you will still be my baby girl.”

She snorted and it was all I could do to keep from laughing. “I’ll be dead before I’m fifty, Papa.”

While I stood, I placed my hand over my mouth. It was easier than feeling his scrutiny.

“Let’s hope not, Mina,” he told her, a sudden sadness in his voice.

“Can you tell Papa how much I want a dog? And will you tell him I know I need to walk and feed it and take it to bathroom? Cause puppies aren’t supposed to use the bathroom inside the house.”

“No, they are not.” I grabbed my wine, enjoying the banter and the way he was watching her. There was nothing like discovering how much a powerful man adored his own child. I was able to see him in an entirely different light.

But I wasn’t going to tell him that.

“I will tell him, but having a puppy is hard work,” I shared.

“I know.” She was frowning, chewing on her cheek until a bright light flashed in her eyes. “Papa. Can I show Izzy the picture?”

She’d remembered my name, which meant even before the shooting, he’d heard all about me. What the man must be thinking. Wait. That was the reason he’d brought me here. He was concerned that someone who’d saved two members of his family could actually be more interested in harming them.

“Absolutely.”

“I’ll be right back.” She took off running again and I had a feeling he was going to tell her not to run in the house but didn’t bother trying.

“She’s definitely from my bloodline.”

“I would agree. Am I going to get a chance to meet her mom?” It was none of my business, but for several reasons, I really wanted to know.

He pulled the glass to his lips. “Her mother is dead.”

Final. No emotion. A simple statement.

Just utter, complete despair.

CHAPTER 5

Maxsim

What did it say about her that after a near tragedy she had taken the time to launder a jacket I considered a throwaway?

I had three dozen suits, none of which meant anything to me. She’d gone out of her way to try to have the blood removed and for whatever reason, her gesture brought me unease.

Had I insisted to myself and my top enforcers that she obviously had a hidden agenda? Absolutely, not wanting to believe she could only be a guardian angel, which I’d started calling her even after learning her identity.

Isabel had been embarrassed she hadn’t been able to remove the stain. The truth was her reaction had floored me; it hadn’t been the first nor would it be the last time. Nothing I’d tried to believe about her was true. Not one damn thing and that had already pushed me out of my comfort zone.

During my life, I’d witnessed some great impersonators, men and women capable of lying with no indication whatsoever their words held absolutely no truth.

If there were any liars considered dangerous, it was those who truly believed what they were spouting off. They could issue the statement without blinking or flinching.

Women were especially good at learning the art, bending the rules of decency simply to get what they wanted. Or to fake a connection whether professionally or intimately.

I’d learned that early on, a lesson taught by my father. He’d tested me and with every failure had come severe punishment. He’d truly believed the most powerful weapon didn’t come with a trigger or explosive device, but from a friendly relationship where even a tiny amount of trust was allowed.