Page 144 of Flawed

"Mind your own business," I warn. The doors open, and I release him. I follow him until we get outside her unit.

He knocks on the door.

Pierre answers and lunges at me when he opens the door, pushing me across the hall and into the wall. He grabs my collar, accusing, "What did you do to my daughter?"

"It's between Chanel and me," I state.

"No, it's between her and her family," he claims.

Massimo pulls him off me. He mutters, "This isn't helping, Pierre."

I firmly repeat, "This is between your daughter and me."

"And me," a voice calls out.

My insides drop. I glance at Zara.

Mascara streaks down her cheeks, staining her creamy skin. Her bottom lip trembles just the way Chanel's does. She grips the doorway so tight that her knuckles turn white. She locks her green eyes on mine, asking, "You're my father?"

I become speechless again. I'm unprepared for this. About an hour ago, I had no idea she existed. Now, a beautiful young woman stands before me. And all I feel is regret that I know will only deepen once I can process this.

She arches her eyebrows the same way Chanel does. More tears track down her cheeks.

I blurt out, "I didn't know about you. I swear."

She lifts her chin. I get the feeling she believes me. She inquires, "Are you or are you not an Abruzzo?"

My stomach churns. I answer, "I'm not, but things are complicated."

She scrunches her face, choking out, "Meaning?"

I open my mouth then close it.

"Tell me," she orders.

"It's not something we should talk about out here. But your mother thought I was one," I confess.

"You let her think you were one. My young, impressionable daughter. She was barely an adult," Pierre seethes.

I clench my jaw and refocus on him. In normal circumstances, he wouldn't even question everyone in the world thinking I was an Abruzzo and not a Marino.

It makes me wonder if the last month of me not being undercover and taking my rightful place in the family made all the reasons disappear.

Will I be a bad guy forever because I held my cover for so long?

I utter, "You know how our world works and what my job was, Pierre."

A neighbor steps out into the hallway, voicing, "What's going on here?"

We ignore her.

Chanel's mom appears, pulling Zara inside. She returns to the door and shoots daggers at me with her glare, fuming, "You have a lot of nerve coming here."

The neighbor gets louder, threatening, "Do I need to call the cops, Sophia?"

Massimo grunts, answering, "Lady, you call the cops, and you're gonna have problems for the rest of your life. Mainly finding a new home. Mind your own business."

"Massimo!" Pierre reprimands.

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