Page 60 of Taming a Ruthless Heart

“She’s yours, Dave,” I say softly.“Rose… she’s your daughter.”

The silence that follows is suffocating, thick with pain and anger and shock.His face goes white and I hold my breath.For a heartbeat, it seems like he’s going to turn and walk out without another word.

Then, the anger returns, sharper than before.It emanates from him in waves, cutting through the air between us like a blade.

“You kept this from me,” he says, his voice cold and hollow, like he’s barely holding back his emotions.

Dave squeezes his eyes shut for a second, clenching and unclenching his fists.He abhors any kind of violence against women.I hang on to that thought as I watch a bluish vein beating in his taut jaw.

He opens his eyes again and takes a deep inhale before saying, “You kept my daughter from me.You lied to me for years, Alexia.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” I say, my voice breaking.“You don’t understand.Igor knew and he threatened to kill you if I told you.I had to protect you.”

“Protect me?”His laugh is bitter, scathing.“You call this protection?Letting me believe she wasn’t mine, hiding her from me while you were chained to that bastard?”His voice drops to a whisper, thick with angst.“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“Dave, please,” I beg, reaching out to him, but he pulls back, his face twisted with anger.I can see the strain in every muscle.

He’s looking at me like he doesn’t even recognize me, like I’m a stranger he can’t trust.

“You’ve blindsided me.I need time to think this over,” he says, his voice shaking with barely controlled rage.“I need to process this shit.”

His pain rips through me, and tears burn the corners of my eyes.“Please don’t go,” I plead, the words slipping out before I can stop them.

He doesn’t answer, just turns on his heel and strides toward the door.I watch him, every step tearing at something deep inside me, breaking me in ways I didn’t know I could be broken.He doesn’t look back, doesn’t pause, doesn’t give me a chance to explain, to make him understand.

The roar of his Maserati echoes through the house, a cold, final sound that feels like the last blow, the final severing of whatever fragile bond we had been building again.

He’s gone, leaving me alone in the silence, shattered and empty, with nothing but my mistakes weighing me like an anchor thrown at sea.

I sink back into the chair, my hands covering my face as I finally allow the tears to fall, silent and unstoppable.Rose’s laughter floats in from the garden, innocent, unaware of the storm brewing beyond the walls of our newfound sanctuary.

I know, in my heart, that I might have just lost the only man I’ve ever loved—forever.

24

Dave

Alexia’s revelation hits me like a sledgehammer, obliterating everything else.Her confession twists, with the sharpness of a blade in my gut, as I tear away from the safe house.My knuckles are bloodless as I grip the wheel, the leather creaking beneath the pressure.The Maserati roars beneath me, the engine’s growl matching the chaos in my head.The road blurs in my periphery, trees merging into a smear as I drive with reckless abandon in the growing darkness.

Alexia’s name sears my mind, laced with betrayal that twists into self-loathing.I grip the wheel tighter, forcing back the urge to scream.Her words resurface, slashing through my consciousness like jagged glass.Rose is yours.These words rewrote the past five years in one brutal stroke.

I relive it all—the days after Alexia’s wedding when seeing her gutted me, watching her eyes dull under that monster’s reign.

Butthis pain?

This is a wound I’m not sure will ever heal.Now I know I’ve lost more than her when she married Igor.I’ve lost moments I can never reclaim.

I don’t remember making the decision to head to Cape Cod, but when the Maserati’s speed levels out and the landscape shifts, I recognize the familiar curve of the road.The moonlight spills across Jack’s estate, casting long shadows over the sprawling grounds.The imposing house rises up before me, with its white clapboard facade and slate-gray roof.It’s nestled between the woods and the glistening bay.

The driveway crunches under the car as I pull in, gravel scattering like tiny shards of glass.The sight of this house brings a hollow ache to my chest.This was my mom’s favorite, which is why Dad has retreated here.

I step out, the chill of the evening air biting through the thin fabric of my dress shirt.Summer nights rarely get sweltering up here.

A tall figure, silhouetted against the glow of the porch light, approaches.Mason, the head of my father’s security team, nods at me, his expression a careful mask of professionalism that cracks at the sight of my face.“Evening, sir.Jack’s already turned in for the night.”

I force a smile, brittle at the edges.“It’s fine, Mason.I don’t need to wake him.”

He steps aside, his eyes lingering on me a second too long as if weighing the cost of asking what’s wrong.I stride past him, the heavy front door yielding with a familiar creak as I push it open.The foyer is warm, softly lit by the antique chandelier hanging above, its crystals catching the light and refracting it in gentle prisms.The scent of polished wood and a hint of Jack’s cologne—a mix of pine and aged whiskey—fills the space, grounding me in memories of home.

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