Heir To A Dark Inheritance. Maisey Yates
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“If I told her that, it was true,” he said.
She blinked. “If? You don’t remember?”
He shrugged. “Not specifically.”
And then her brain caught up with the rest of his claim. “And you were on a mission of some kind?”
“How old is the child?”
Jada blinked. “You don’t know?”
“I know nothing about this,” he said. “I got a phone call while I was in Brussels, telling me that if I didn’t come and claim a child I didn’t know I had by a certain date, I would lose my rights to her forever. Then I went and got testing done to confirm that I am in fact the father, and I am, just so you know. Then yesterday I got a letter saying my parental rights would be terminated and she would be adopted to someone else if I failed to come to a hearing that had been moved to today.”
“She’s one. She just had her birthday.” Just the two of them in Jada’s little house, on the same street where she’d lived for eight years. “Where were you a little over a year and a half ago?”
His mouth twitched. “Near here. I was in Portland seeing to some business.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Ah. Business.”
“I can’t talk about the exact nature of it.”
Disgust filled her. He was the sort of man she’d been blessed never to have had any interaction with. She’d married too young and her husband had been completely decent. She didn’t think men like this, men who bed-hopped with zero discrimination, were real outside of terrible movies. “I can guess. I’ve been caring for the results of that business.”
One brow shot upward. “Just an added bonus to my trip. I’m not a sex tourist.”
Jada blinked, heat rushing into her cheeks. “You are direct, aren’t you?”
“And you are prickly. And extremely judgmental.”
And not accustomed to people who were so comfortable talking about their bad behavior. He seemed to wear it like a badge of honor. “You’re here to take my child from me—what reaction did you want me to have to you?”
He looked at their surroundings. They were the only two people in the antechamber. “I didn’t anticipate being stuck in the lobby with you, I have to say.”
“And yet you are. Answer me this…what does a man who travels the world, doing Lord knows what, want with a baby? Do you have a wife?” She hoped not, all things considered.
“No.”
“Other children?”
“Not as far as I know,” he said, a smile that could only be described as naughty curving his lips. “Clearly these things can surprise you.”
“Not most people, Mr. Vasin,” she bit out. “So, why do you want her?”
It was a good question. One Alik didn’t know the answer to. All he knew was that if he turned and walked away, if he never met her, never made sure she was cared for, if he left her to fight her way through life as he’d had to do, then there would officially be no hell hot enough for him.
Forgetting about the phone call had crossed his mind. Not making it to the hearing had crossed his mind. But with each thought had come a twinge in his chest, a brand on a conscience he hadn’t known he’d possessed.
He didn’t particularly want her. But no matter what, he found he couldn’t leave, either.
He gave the only answer he had. “Because she is mine.”
“Hardly a good reason.”
“Why do you want her so badly, Ms. Patel?” he asked, returning her formality. “She is not your child, no matter how you feel.”
“Is that so? Blood relation, even to a stranger, is more important than the care that’s been given? Is that how you see it?”
Alik looked down at the woman in front of him, all fire and passion. Beautiful, and if it was any other situation, his thoughts might have turned to seduction. Black, glossy hair, golden skin and honey-colored eyes, combined with a petite and perfect figure, made her a very tempting package.
Though, at the moment she was also a dangerous one. She was tiny, barely reaching the middle of his chest and yet she did not fear him. She seemed ready to physically attack him if need be.
Not in the way he would like, he imagined.
“It is not an emotional matter,” he said. “It is black-and-white in my eyes. I am her father. You are not her mother.”
She drew back, a cobra preparing to strike. “How dare you?”
“Mr. Vasin? Ms. Patel?” A small woman in a black jacket and slacks opened the door and poked her head out. “We’re ready for you both.”
As Mr. Vasin is here and clearly of sound mind, and, having submitted to a paternity test, has proven to be the father, we have no reason not to release his child into his custody.
Jada replayed the last ten minutes of the hearing in her mind, over and over again. The judge was sorry, the caseworkers regretful. But there was simply no reason why Leena shouldn’t be with her father. Her billionaire father, as it turned out, which she knew had bearing on the ruling regardless of what anyone said.
How could it not? Jada was a housewife with no spouse to support her. Her only source of income came from her late husband’s life insurance settlement and as generous as it was, it wasn’t a billion dollars.
That, combined with the irrefutable proof of his paternity, when it was made clear that he had been wronged, the victim of a misunderstanding, had meant Jada hadn’t had a case. Not in anyone else’s mind. In hers, she had the only case that mattered. But no one else cared.
And now, Leena was with this Alik Vasin, in a private room so the two of them could get to know each other. Have an introduction. They couldn’t let Jada take Leena with her. She was a flight risk. Another thing everyone was very regretful about.
Jada leaned against the wall in the empty hallway and gasped for breath. No matter how much air she took in she was still suffocating. Her chest was locked tight, and she tried to breathe in, but her lungs wouldn’t expand. She wondered if her heart had stopped beating, too.
Her knees shook, gave way, and she slid down the wall, sitting with her legs drawn up to her chest, not caring that she was in a skirt, not caring if anyone saw. She hated that this feeling was so familiar. That it slipped back on as easy as an old pair of jeans. Shock. Grief. Loss.
Losing Sunil had been hard enough. Unfair. Unexpected. No one planned to be a widow at twenty-five. Coming to terms with it, with being alone, when she’d leaned on her parents, and then her husband, for all of her life, had been the hardest thing she’d ever gone through. She was still going through it.
Losing