Russian Billionaire's Secret Baby Page 8

  “I missed you too,” she said in that heartbreakingly sweet, tiny voice. “I’m sorry for making you sad.”

  “Oh, honey, you didn’t make me sad. I love you so much.” I squeezed her gently and placed her on her feet. My parents were on their feet, and Mom gave me a big hug as Ashley skipped into the kitchen.

  “I’m here when you’re ready to talk,” Mom said.

  “Thank you. I love you.”

  Dad hugged me next. “I’ve still got that Louisville Slugger.” He squeezed me, and I held back a laugh.

  “You’re never going to get to use that thing,” I teased him. He swore to Mom he wanted protection for their house. Mom had refused to let him get a gun, so he’d gotten the next best thing, a baseball bat. He’d since offered to use it on anyone that tried to hurt me or Ashley.

  “I know. It’s a travesty,” he joked right back, kissing my hair.

  After they were gone, I tracked Ashley to the kitchen. She was up on a chair at the breakfast bar sipping a juice pouch. I sat down next to her and leaned into her until I gently bumped her little shoulder with mine.

  “How you doing?” I asked her.

  “Okay.” She seemed to consider for a moment. “Is it okay if we talk about my dad?” She peered up at me.

  “Sure,” I said, steeling myself.

  “Did he leave us?” Her little eyes were huge and soulful.

  I shook my head. “He didn’t. But it’s really complicated.” How should I explain things to her?

  “Why?” she asked. Once more, I found myself wishing things could be as easy as they always seemed to be as a child. “Do you love him?”

  I nodded.

  “Does he love you?”

  His growl filled my mind, and I could see his serious face as he spoke. I’ve loved you forever.

  “I think so,” I said.

  Ashley’s eyebrows struggled to meet over a crease in her forehead. “If you both love each other, why aren’t you married?”

  My heart ached in my chest. “Because it’s complicated, sweetie. There’s more to being married than just love.”

  She shook her head while nudging her juice pouch around on the counter. “No, you said that I was right about Kenzie’s mom and daddy being married because they love each other very much.”

  “Love is important,” I said, trying to smooth over the hurt and upset I felt rolling off her like smoke off a fire. “But it’s not the only important thing.”

  “But it is,” she said, staring up at me.

  I didn’t know what else to say, so I pulled her in for a hug. “I love you so much,” I told her as her little arms slipped around my back.

  “I love you too.”

  “How does it feel to be famous?” I teased her.

  “The same,” she said.

  I couldn’t help but laugh at her innocent response. “Are you hungry?” I asked her, feeling my own stomach grumbling a bit. The feeling reminded me that Vlad and I had been irresponsible.

  “No, can I go paint?” she asked.

  “Sure,” I said, and she raced out of the room.

  I pressed a hand between my hips, worried. His words flowed back through my thoughts. I’m sorry, I should have been more careful. But if something were to happen, I’d be right there by your side no matter what you wanted to do.

  Pressing back to the fridge, I stared up at the ceiling before sinking down to sit on the floor, wondering what now? I loved the man. But he was a jerk.

  And maybe he was right. Maybe our fights were darkly thrilling. Maybe I did push him and press on things I knew would set him off. Didn’t make his anger right or justified, but it did make me reconsider if I had something to do with the blow outs, arguments, and fights.

  But all the fighting aside, more troubling thoughts surfaced and swirled round and round my mind.

  What did you tell her about me? He’d been so furious. I wanted to tell him the truth—that I’d never said a single bad thing about him to her. That I’d always been careful not to misinform her or lie.

  Did you tell her that her daddy didn’t want her? The agony in his eyes still clawed at me. He’d been so hurt, so angry. And for good reason. I knew about his hard upbringing. How he’d never felt loved as a child, except by his grandmother.

  The fact that he thought me capable of such behavior cut through me. I’d never say such ugly things to her even if they were true.

  But thinking back on it now, I could feel his pain, his heartbreak. When I put it all together with other statements, I like the thought of you carrying my child, it all made sense. He didn’t want to run away.

  He’d wanted his daughter the second he’d found out about her.

  His anger was with me. His anger was with the eight years he’d missed. That I’d kept her from him. That I hadn’t spoken up the second I’d started working with him.

  This time it wasn’t him that was the problem; it was me.

  Who’s walking out now?

  Chapter Twenty One

  Vladmir

  I blinked up at the ceiling.

  Yesterday morning, everything had been so wonderful. I’d woken up with Aurora at my side where she belonged.

  Today, I had a daughter, Aurora was gone, and I felt more alone than I ever had before.

  With heavy feet and a heavier heart, I dragged myself into the bathroom. Splashing cold water on my face, I lifted my head and glared at myself in the mirror. The shower in the background caught my eye.

  Yesterday, we’d been so close. Everything had been perfect.

  I gripped the edge of the counter. I’d held her close, made love to her in the shower. I’d told her I was sorry for not using protection. But I wasn’t. It felt natural and right to be with her without barriers. I was only sorry that we hadn’t discussed it first. That we hadn’t talked it out first.

  And if she wound up pregnant, I’d be by her side and support her no matter what. She had been pregnant. All those years ago. I’d thought we’d been lucky. The thought that she might not tell me about a child had never even crossed my mind as a possibility.

  Even now, the thought of her with a swollen belly and glittering eyes filled me with joy. The thought of her playing with our children, of holding our baby in my arms, walking our daughter down the aisle at her wedding…all the lifetime of potential memories crowded my brain. I’d missed eight years, sure, but there was so much more moving forward.

  So much more for me to miss.

  Because Aurora was gone.

  Forget about me. Forget about Ashley.

  The words cut to the bone like an errant butcher knife slicing the tip off a finger.

  “Ashley.” I said the name out loud, and the image of the girl on the news popped into my head. She looked like me. She had her mother’s blonde hair, but my navy blue eyes, my strong cheekbones. She was a beautiful mix of both me and Aurora.

  I quickly dressed and left the house. I didn’t remember the drive, but I stepped out of the car in front of the mural. Staring at the galaxy, I felt her loneliness. I felt her cry. The vast emptiness of space was so very fitting. I could feel the same hollowness within me.

  The phone rang, and I answered it without thinking.

  “Are you sure?” My lawyer sounded surprised.

  I was. So very sure. “I am. Thank you for the call.”

  “Had to make sure it was really you and that you hadn’t been hacked. Anything else you want to add?” he asked.

  I felt impatient despite knowing what he was getting at. We’d long since added a duress phrase, which I was to utter if anything was fishy.

  “Yes, keep this quiet.” I didn’t want anything to happen to them. I could use my money to protect them, sure, but I didn’t want to intrude. I didn’t want to interrupt their lives.

  “People will find out.” The lawyer sounded doubtful. “This can only blow up in your face.”

  “I’ll deal with it when it happens.” Damn it, I was going to take care of my daughter. And Auror
a.

  “Want my advice?”

  “Sure.” I needed all the help I could get.

  “Call her.”

  With that, my lawyer hung up. I stared at the dead phone. And dialed her number. Holding the phone to my ear, I thought about what I should say. The line rang. Rang. Rang. And the voicemail picked up.

  “Please don’t shut me out. I love you. I love our daughter. Please let me prove that.” I hung up, feeling like an idiot. Of course she’d ignore me.

  Like all those years ago, she was going to shut me out, close off, and disappear. I needed to figure out how to stop that from happening. I needed to figure out how to reach her without freaking her out.

  Though I felt we were past the worry of freaking out. We had a child together. She might be carrying my baby right now.

  My phone rang, and I answered it quickly. “Yes?”

  Paul sounded apologetic on the other end. “Sorry for bothering you, but Aurora emailed in a resignation.”

  The words slid into my chest like a sword into a sheath.

  “She… Are you sure?” This couldn’t be real. She was fading out of my life right now. Before my very eyes.

  “I am very sure. She apologized and said we’re just not a good fit.” He hesitated. “What would you like me to do now?”

  “Give her the standard severance package.” Of all the things I was, stingy to my employees wasn’t one of them. Not only did I generally pay double the going salaries for every position, I also offered an excellent severance package. The way I saw it, I wouldn’t be profitable without my team, therefore my team deserved to share in my success.

  “Done.” He hesitated again. “Should I…gather more résumés?”

  “Not at this moment.” We could float without hiring someone right away. It would mean more work for all of us, but I knew my employees wouldn’t mind much.

  “Okay. Have a good day, sir.” Again, he paused.

  “Just say it,” I said.

  “If you need someone to talk to, or anything at all, please feel free to come to me.”

  “Thank you.” I hadn’t expected that. But it felt good to know he cared. “Have a good day, Paul.”

  “You too.”

  We hung up, and I struggled to breathe. At least she’d have some cushion. Her salary through the end of the year would be paid to her in a lump sum along with her paid time off. Her medical, dental, and life insurance would stay intact until she contacted us to change it. Her 401k would still be in place no matter what.

  But she was gone.

  The sense of loss tore at every fiber of my being. Devastation washed over me like a tidal wave. She was gone. And bit by bit, she was removing herself from my life.

  We need to talk. I sent the text, hoping for a response but not expecting one. She’d made herself pretty clear.

  Well, I’d made myself pretty clear. I had a daughter. I needed to meet her. To know her. To assure her that I did love her and would be there for her no matter what. I was not my parents.

  But it was more than that. I didn’t just want to meet her. I wanted to be part of her life. I wanted to champion her work. I wanted to be there to support her as she met life head on. On the news, she’d been adorable, wise, and so very self-assured. She reminded me of myself when I was younger, minus the temper.

  I needed to prove myself to Aurora, and to Ashley. I needed to step up and be the man they both deserved.

  And I’d made steps behind the scenes.

  Strength flowed through me, and I picked up the phone again. My grandmother would have loved Aurora and Ashley. I could almost hear her telling me the time to fight was now.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Aurora

  One month later…

  “It’s beautiful,” I said.

  Ashley beamed with pride. She’d decided against a frame—a decision I’d wholeheartedly agreed with. The canvas itself was nearly as large as she was, and the hours that had gone into it made it the most intensive project of hers to date.

  The incredible painting veered a bit from her usual urban scenes and took a sharp turn toward her father’s style somehow.

  Black and white aspen trunks shot up and gave way to brilliant yellow leaves while burnt orange ferns filled the ground space. The surreal image only slipped into sharp focus when someone unfocused their eyes. Once unfocused, it felt like actually stepping into the painting. The illusion was so strong I could stare at it and inhale the scent of damp earth and feel the crisp fall air.

  “I’m so proud of you,” I told her, pulling her in for a hug.

  I’d never expected my lowest point to be the day she’d started on this project that was already changing her life.

  “Thank you,” she said solemnly.

  I thanked my lucky stars that winning the talent show with her painting hadn’t changed her. There wasn’t an arrogant bone in her body. If anything, she seemed stunned by the whole thing, like it had never occurred to her that she’d even had a chance of winning.

  “I like that,” she said, jerking her chin toward the statue I’d been working on. The abstract figures flowed into and around each other, subtly resembling a woman and man with the male swirling around the woman. She was his center, and his hand rested on hers, though the shapes were very general and not at all human in appearance. More like the shapelessness of ghosts, like ribbons curling around one another.

  “Thank you,” I said. “Let’s get you loaded up, okay?”

  As if on cue, I heard a knock at the door. Ashley rushed over and threw it open to reveal my parents. Dad scooped her up, and Mom gave them both a hug.

  “Are you excited?” I heard Mom ask her.

  Ashley nodded, and Dad squeezed her before setting her on her feet.

  “Are you nervous?” Dad asked her.

  She gave a tiny hint of a nod.

  “Good. You’re human, then.” Dad pretended to snag her nose, and she giggled, holding a hand over it as if to stop him.

  “Ready?” Mom asked me.

  I shrugged helplessly. Would I ever be ready for this? I swore my baby was growing up much too fast, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

  “Any word from him?” she asked.

  I’d leveled with her a week after the split. She’d been disappointed in me, and I knew it. Once I’d told her everything, she’d asked me very seriously if he wanted his daughter for her, or to lord over me. I’d been honest with her, telling her about his background and who he was, and that I was certain it was for her.

  She’d asked if I was going to let him in, and I’d told her I wasn’t sure I could. It hurt too much.

  She’d asked if he was right—if I liked the fights and contributed. I’d told her yes, and she’d echoed my thoughts—that it didn’t make what he did right or forgivable, but that I had a hand in everything as well.

  It felt good to come clean and talk so openly, but it hurt to disappoint her. Though she’d said she understood, she’d gently asked me who suffered more, me or Ashley. Would it hurt me more to have him in my life, or would it hurt her more to not have him?

  It was a painful question that I couldn’t bring myself to answer.

  He’d tried that one day to reach out to me, and I’d emailed my resignation. He’d texted me, and I’d ignored him. Then I’d gotten an email back about my severance. I’d tried to politely decline it, but I was told it was standard for the company to take care of all employees, past and present.

  The resulting income dumped into my bank account had made me cry. A whole year’s salary all at once, plus the continuation of all benefits… I’d been questioning if I was wrong about Vlad. I’d always known he was a good man under all that anger and icy exterior, but that seemed like too much. Finding out it was standard broke me.

  “We’ve got to hurry,” I said.

  Ashley picked up her painting, and Dad ushered her toward the car, opening the door for her on the way out.

  Mom hugged me. “I love you
.”

  ***

  At the gallery, Ashley’s picture was hung in the place of honor, the center of the room. Only when I saw it there did the full gravity of it all hit me. The piece that had gotten him noticed was his aspens in the fog painting.

  Here she was with her aspens in fall hand painted 3D image.

  She turned to me, her expression lit up. “What do you think?”

  “Perfect,” I said, smiling at her. Still stunned to the core, I watched people move around as the place readied for its opening.

  “Can I have a donut?” she asked, pointing to the back room where snacks were laid out for all the kids that had been included in this exhibition.

  “Go ahead. Don’t make yourself sick,” I warned. I watched her run off and overheard someone behind me talking in a low voice to their partner.

  “It reminds me of a Vladmir Leov.”

  “Snob,” the other person said as my heart stopped in my chest.

  “I am not. He’s like the Elon Musk of the art world. He’s just crazy enough to keep the spotlight on himself, but smart and talented enough to deserve to be there.” The first person moved out of my hearing range, and I stole a glance at them.

  “Are you okay?” Mom asked me.

  “I will be,” I said, feeling like my heart would pound out of my chest. This wasn’t how I wanted her to find out. I’d hoped no one would draw the correct conclusions, but I had a feeling I was fighting a losing battle.

  “Just focus on how proud you are of her. Worry about everything else later,” Dad said.

  “What if someone says something like that where she can hear?” I asked, folding an arm across my ribs. Lifting my other hand to my throat, I gently wrapped my fingers around my neck, feeling like I was about to choke on my fear.

  “Then you answer her questions honestly.” Mom was firm.

  I nodded. All the hairs on my arm stood on end, and that tingling static of an impending lightning strike danced over my skin. Turning to the door, I saw him.

  His eyes were locked on his daughter’s painting, but they ticked to mine a second later.

  I stood rooted in place, unable to breathe, much less move.

  He looked…different. Like he hadn’t slept. His eyes assessed every inch of me, lingering on my belly for a moment longer than needed, then swept back up to meet mine.