Page 131 of Righteous Enforcer
"Soon." I lie because I can’t figure out how to tell her the truth. I resent Eva for putting me in the position to break our daughter’s heart.
Her bottom lip quivers. "You said that yesterday."
I reach across the table, smoothing a strand of her hair. "I know, Princess."
"I want Mommy." Tears pool in her eyes as she shoves her bowl away. Milk sloshes over the rim. "You said you’d get her from the bad men."
Fuck. What do I do?
I circle the table and lift her into my arms. She buries her face against my neck, her tears soaking my collar.
The truth is, if Eva came back now, I'd have no choice. She'd be dealt with as any traitor would be. Alessandro would demand it. The Family would expect it.
But looking at my daughter, I find myself grateful Eva hasn't returned. Because despite everything, I don't want to be the man who takes a mother from her child.
Or perhaps I simply don't want to be the man who puts a bullet in the only woman I've ever loved.
“Sir?”
I glance over at Nico.
“There’s a Bratva courier to see you.”
Hmm. This is it. Ivan is playing his hand and I have no doubt Eva is involved. As much as I hate to leave Mirabella, I need to deal with this.
“Come on, sweetie pie,” Sophia says, taking Mirabella from me. “I think I saw a new fairy in the yard.”
Mirabella sniffs. “You did?”
“I did. Let’s go find her.”
I walk with Nico to the foyer where one of Ivan’s men waits. He’s Russian through and through with his bulldog face and perma-scowl.
“I have a message and I’m instructed to wait for your response.”
I take the paper from him and read, nearly laughing at the absurd demands. Surrender control of our shipping routes, withdraw from disputed territories. In return, he’ll send Eva back to us unharmed. If not, he’ll kill her.
My stomach clenches. It’s an automatic response to the idea of Ivan killing Eva left over from when I loved her.
I glance at Ivan’s man. “No deal.”
He arches a brow. “Perhaps Don Dante should?—”
I laugh. “He’ll say the same.” But I nod for him to follow and we go to Alessandro’s office.
When he sees the Bratva stooge follow me in, he scowls. “Bringing mongrels into the house now?”
“He’s a courier.” I hand him the note.
The courier shifts slightly. “I’m prepared to give you proof of life.”
“Is she enjoying Ivan’s company in his bed too or just at his dining table?” Alessandro asks, and even though I know the truth about her, it rubs me wrong what he’s insinuating.
The courier’s head jerks back, clearly surprised by the response. “She is a prisoner?—”
“We know that’s not true.”
The Russian looks from me to Alessandro, and there’s something in his confusion that has me wondering if I’m missing something. I know what I saw, what I heard, but he clearly believes Eva is a prisoner.
