“What’s to do? There is nothing to do,” he groused, irritated that Vivian knew him so well but that was to be expected given all that they’d shared over the years. He roused himself to broach a subject he knew was bound to ruffle feathers but there was no avoiding it. “Vivian, you must stop being so harsh to Nico. It upsets Skye.”
“Oh, does it? And why should I care if a whore is upset?” she asked, blinking in feigned surprise.
“Don’t play innocent. It is beneath you.”
Her face hardened. She regarded him with those chilly blue eyes, saying, “Fine. This ridiculous obsession of yours with that woman is going to destroy all you’ve built. Let her go. It’s beside the time to do so. There are hundreds of girls out there who will suit the same purpose with less trouble. I say good riddance.”
He couldn’t say the same. He couldn’t let her go. It gave him a physical pain that baffled him. And it drove him to madness to think of her building a life away from him. “She is a moneymaker,” he stated as if that were the only reason he refused to cut her loose. Though, he knew in his heart of hearts, Vivian spoke the truth. He was crazy to keep her around. She was a loose cannon. Or worse, a ticking time bomb. “She has grace, class and style aside from physical beauty. Besides, I have invested too much to simply make her disappear now.”
“Yes, we all know how you’ve made a fool of yourself,” she said, her tone clipped and disapproving. He cast a short look of warning her way but she ignored it. “You’ve created an additional challenge with that boy. I can only imagine what you were thinking. He is more than a loose end. He is a liability. An unfortunate accident is your only way out of this growing mess of a situation.”
“Stop talking nonsense, woman,” he barked, annoyed that she would even suggest such a thing. “He is my son. You seem to have forgotten that important fact.”
Her mouth pinched and her body tightened in a rigid line. In that moment he could’ve sworn hatred flared in her eyes and he wondered if perhaps the ghosts from the past were becoming too much for her. The moment dragged out between them and guilt prodded at him to offer a gentle word but she collected herself to say, “It is impossible to forget. He is your spitting image.”
That he was. And it gave him an odd thrill that Skye’s child shared his genes. If only she didn’t loathe him. Oh, yes, he knew. A heavy weight settled on his shoulders, pushing him further into a sorry state of mind. He wished it didn’t matter, that she was like so many of the others, but there was something about her that pushed him to do things he’d never consider with anyone else.
Such as father a child.
He averted his stare away from Vivian, away from the condemnation radiating from her thin frame. “You will stop this nonsense when it concerns Nico,” he demanded roughly, risking a look at the woman who knew all his secrets. “He is my family. Like it or not.”
She inclined her head in his direction, her rage cooling into a bitter freeze. “Of course. Then, I would suggest you exert your influence on Skye and convince her to send him away. She will poison him against you eventually. Mark my words. She will ruin you through that boy,” she counseled. “Besides, allowing her to have Nico around makes her difficult to manage.”
He grunted his agreement. Vivian had a point. And he sensed that Skye would endeavor to find another way to bolt. But he knew she would stay put if he held her son, which is why he refused to return him to her full-time. “Excelsior is a fine school,” he mused, catching a quiet gleam of triumph in Vivian’s eyes. “And a boy such as Nico will need the best education there is. Procure the necessary arrangements to ensure his early enrollment.”
For once Vivian’s smile reached her eyes but it was enough to chill his blood. “It would be my pleasure,” she murmured, exiting the room with a soft chuckle.
He stared after Vivian, wondering when the woman had become so cold, so vicious.
Of course, he didn’t need to wonder long. He already knew the answer.
It was the day he’d made her abort their child…twenty years ago.
Perhaps that was the weight he felt. Suddenly, he felt each of his fifty-two years as if they were bricks of cement pressing on his body.
Their child would’ve been an adult by now. He sighed. Funny how life had its twists and turns. He hadn’t wanted to be a father to Vivian’s child and truly, when Skye had told him she was pregnant, he hadn’t been pleased. Until he realized it was the perfect way to tie her to him forever. Then, the prospect of fatherhood had improved.
And he’d been correct. The child was better leverage than he could’ve dreamed.
With the boy firmly in his control, he had Skye caged like a little bird.
Just the way he liked her.
He smiled and made a mental note to give Vivian a little bump in her salary. The woman deserved a little extra. It was the least he could do.
“How did you get my number?” she asked, puzzled but secretly impressed.
“The internet is a wondrous thing,” he said by way of an answer but continued to his original statement. “Are you interested?”
“What kind of proposition would that be?” she asked, wary but admittedly, intrigued. She couldn’t remember the last time someone asked her for something without ulterior motives.
“Well, you know the program I was telling you about? The Buddy program has an affiliate program for girls called My Big Sister and they’re looking for someone to come in a few times a week to start the arts classes with the kids. And of course, I thought of you.”
“Me?” she asked, mildly distressed yet flattered at the same time. “Why me?”
“Why not? You’re a classically trained dancer and that falls under the arts, doesn’t it? Besides, I read somewhere that dance can help kids focus and gives them a good introduction to new opportunities.” He must’ve sensed her reluctance because he pressed a bit harder, his earnest tone pulling at her. “I don’t know what your childhood was like but I can tell that these kids don’t come from the best. At the least they’ve suffered neglect but at the worst…well, some have forgotten that there’s anything beautiful left in the world. The arts help to remind them what’s out there.”
How could she argue with that? Everything he said was true. You could tell a story with dance. At her best, she’d been able to paint a picture with the sweep and twist of her arms and body, forgetting everything else going on in her life, good or bad. She missed it so much it was a constant ache but she’d written off any chance of ever dancing again. Tears pricked her eyes at even the thought of sliding her toes into ballet slippers again. Dance was something that had been wholly her own, something Belleni had never touched. “I’ll do it,” she blurted before she could change her mind or, worse, plain come to her senses. Belleni would disapprove but she didn’t care. “I would love to teach the children about dance. When and where?” she asked, a bit breathless, yet smiling.
She could hear the smile in his voice as he said, “I was hoping you’d say that. How about I swing by and pick you up Friday around noon?”
“How about you give me the address and I’ll meet you there?” she countered.
He laughed. “All right,” he conceded with good humor. Another point in his favor. He gave an address on the west side of Central Park and she quickly entered it into her phone. “See you Friday, then.”
“Friday,” she agreed, and added, “Thanks for thinking of me, Christian.”
“It’s all I’ve done since we met,” he answered, his honest answer chasing a thrill down her spine like kittens after a ball of string. “I want to help you.”
“I’m not a project for you to fix, Christian,” she said, the intoxicating warmth curling in her belly cooling considerably. “And I don’t need your pity.”
“And I’m not offering it. But I am offering you something that I think you’ll enjoy.”
A bit unsettled but not quite sure she was capable of refusing, her desire to dance blotting out any sensible argument against accepting, she agreed to meet with him.
Butterflies erupted and joined in her stomach with a vague sense of unease for her recklessness but the lure was too strong. She’d have to lie to Vivian about her whereabouts but she’d do anything to be able to forget for just a moment where her life had stalled and left her stranded.
Just one moment. She huffed a shaky breath.
She’d sort out her feelings later. After her meeting with Belleni.
“Mama, take me back to our apartment,” Nico said fretfully, to which Vivian flashed a disdainful look before giving a minute shake of her head.
“Hush, sweetie,” Skye said, but gave his small hand a reassuring squeeze to communicate that she understood. She didn’t like this place, either.
Vivian opened the double doors and watched as they entered. Belleni sat in a large, overstuffed fine leather chair that looked softer than butter and likely cost an exorbitant amount. His mouth lifted in an inviting smile but Skye was immediately put on guard by the shrewd light in his eyes. She glanced at Vivian and was further alarmed by the gleam in her eyes. Anything that excited Vivian usually bode terribly for Skye. Their earlier conversation came back to haunt her and she swallowed in trepidation.
“Take a seat, my darlings,” Belleni instructed, then turned to Nico. “Would you like a root beer float?” he asked Nico. When her son nodded shyly, he gestured to Vivian who stepped forward with an outstretched hand to Nico.
“Come, boy,” Vivian said, trying to sound kind, which to Skye’s ears was downright terrifying. She started to protest but Vivian had already clamped her hand around her son’s, pulling him to his feet and out the door before Skye could stop her.
“What’s this about, Belleni?” Skye asked, unable to stand the tension stringing her taut. Her gaze strayed to the door where they’d exited and she was half tempted to run after the woman. “I’m uncomfortable with Nico being with her. I told you she doesn’t like him.”
Belleni waved away her concern. “I’ve already taken care of that. Vivian has seen the error of her ways and is looking to make amends.”
“She’s lying,” she said, bordering on panic. “She hates him and is only waiting for the right opportunity. The last time she brought him to me he had finger bruises on his arms. Children are fragile, Belleni. Promise me you’ll protect him.”
“Silence,” he demanded, his eyes flashing. “I told you I took care of the situation and unlike you who has a penchant for questioning my decisions, others do not. Vivian will do as I tell her. Now behave yourself before I truly lose my temper with you.”
She blinked back tears, fighting an awful sense of foreboding yet she held her tongue and waited.
“It’s like this…the time has come for me to bring Nico into his rightful place.”
Her blood chilled but she remained calm. “What does that mean?”
“Don’t pretend stupidity,” he said. “Nico is my son and someday he will inherit my legacy.”
She paled at the thought of Belleni inducting Nico into his den of iniquity. She was still reeling from Belleni’s discovery of her cache of money. But she had thought she’d have more time to recover before Belleni started pushing for some kind of true relationship with their son. She’d never wanted Nico to know his true roots.
Never.
“Why now?” she asked. “You haven’t treated Nico with anything aside from passing interest up until now. He doesn’t even understand you’re his father.”
“Yes, well, that will change,” he said sharply.
“You’re doing this to punish me, aren’t you?” she asked, her chest so tight she could barely get air into her lungs. “It’s because you’re angry with me over my disagreement with Vivian, well, I take it back. I’ll do whatever she likes from now on.”
He sighed. “It pains me that you would think so low of me that I would use my own child to get back at you over some tiff with Vivian. Please, darling,” he said, his tone aggravatingly patronizing.
She settled herself, forcing calm into her voice. “Then what is it?”
His gaze narrowed. “The boy distracts you. And it is time to refocus.”
“Refocus on what?” she asked, the edge returning to her voice even as she tried to school it into civility. “You’ve taken everything from me, you’d take my son, too?”
“Don’t be so melodramatic. Your son will remain your son. You’re the one who has caused this turmoil in your life. If I could trust that you wouldn’t run away I wouldn’t have had to take such drastic measures by keeping Nico with me. Perhaps you should spend more time trying to find a way to be less deceitful and more trustworthy and then we could discuss a new arrangement. As it stands, I cannot trust that you won’t take my son and disappear at your first opportunity. Truly, Skye, it wounds me that you are so ungrateful.”
She swallowed. For one wild moment she longed to threaten to call the police, to spill every dirty detail she’d managed to glean since knowing Belleni but he held too many cards and he knew it. She also longed to curl her hands into fists. She imagined pummeling his rotten face until she could no longer make out his features but that wasn’t an option. He was too powerful, too connected and she wasn’t going to prison over him.
“Vivian thinks it would be good to start Nico’s education early at Excelsior,” he said. “It would seem you’ve become too attached and in truth, it’s not good for a boy to become too close to his mother. A little distance would do you both some good.”
“Don’t send him away,” she said, tears not far from her voice. “Please.”
“Vivian says—”
“Vivian is not his mother. I am,” she cut in softly. “Am I not a good mother to your son?”
“There is room for improvement, such as when you coddle him too much, but overall, you are a good mother,” he agreed.
“Then, trust me,” she said, hating that he could compel her to beg but the idea of sending Nico away to some school thousands of miles away made her insane. She swallowed bile as she said, “I’ll try harder to be a good girl. I won’t try to run. I promise. I’m happy here.”
“I’ve heard this before,” Belleni groused, but she could tell he was softening a bit. “You tell me what I want to hear, that is all.”
“I know you want the best for Nico,” she said, lying through her teeth and nearly choking on each word as they passed her lips. “Can you blame me for being protective of our son? I would die if something happened to him.”
Belleni cast a look her way as if gauging whether or not she’d just given him a warning but he seemed weary of fighting for the moment. He waved her off, irritation in his expression as he said, “We will address this again later. My head aches and my gut is cramping. But, Skye,” he said, his stare narrowing, “soon your services will be required and I will not accept any excuses so use your time to rest. Now go.”