Fourteen

Damian

I'm sitting in the penthouse at the Maryland Hotel in Marfa, waiting for Alexandr to return. Both my parents are sitting with me on the sofa while my head is cradled in my hands, trying not to run after her myself.

Stefano sits on the chair opposite the couch, staring at the wall. He told Victoria he had business meetings that would take a couple of days. She's unpredictable right now, and after we told her that her informant was wrong, she's gone down a deep hole with her drinking, so we decided to keep her out of the loop for now, especially since we still don’t know why Sofia suffered bruising for years. I have my suspicions but no proof yet, but I'll find it. I'm 98% positive she had a lot to do with most of Sofia's “accidental” injuries. Fuck, I need to torture someone again. It's been two days since I killed Mikhail and a week since I went to the underground fighting ring we run. I need to vent my rage, especially before I see my wife. The last thing I need is to cause her to run again. I rub the tattoo over my left peck. It’s Sofia's name, and dates from the important parts of our relationship.

It's been more than five hours, nearing 8 PM. at night. Where the fuck is he?

"Sweetheart, he'll be back soon. If he's gone this long, it could mean she's agreed to talk to him." My mother rubs my back, and I know she's right. I look at the clock again.

Suddenly, the door opens, making my heart race. We all stand to our feet and turn to look at my brother; his eyes are red-rimmed and glossy. What the fuck?

We all go to him as he bends his head, grabs his hair, and yanks it hard, then screams out in absolute utter pain, "Fuck!"

We all stop to stare at him wide-eyed before he looks at me, his eyes full of despair and devastation as well as a hint of guilt, and my heart fucking stops. No, fuck, this can't be good. I can feel it deep in my gut.

"Brother, the child doesn't belong to her neighbor. The little girl is…hers," he says with a sob.

Stefano walks to the wall near the fireplace, punching it.

I can't breathe. I stand there, looking at my brother. She’s weeping, and all I can focus on is that Sofia had another man's child. I mean, I'll raise her like my own, because Sofia is my wife. No child will get in the way of having her again, and Sofia won't want to leave her, so I'll just have to make do. It'll be my penance for all the hurt I've caused her. It’ll be my punishment and joy to raise another man’s child.

I'll have to kill the man who thought he could touch my wife, though.

I see red; someone touched my fucking wife! And she let him! Hypocritical, I know, but I don't give a fuck. No one touches my fucking wife!

"Son, wha?—"

Alexandr cuts our father off, his next statement causing my knees to buckle and fall to the floor as pain shoots through my chest.

"She's the exact image of us; she's her daddy's little girl. She has his eyes and dark hair…. She's yours brother, and we failed her. We failed them both."

He looks into my eyes, showing me his pain. "She knew who I was, brother, when she noticed me talking to Sofia on the park bench. She jumped out of the sandbox and screamed ‘Dyadya Al’. She hugged me tight, brother."

I sob, grabbing my hair tight, realizing the time I've missed not just with my wife but with my daughter. My daughter, fuck no, this can't be happening. I didn't fuck up so badly that I lost my daughter, too.

Shit, I can't breathe; my chest is tightening.

Stefano sits on the floor, leaning up against the wall near the fireplace. My father is holding my mother in his arms, trying to be strong while she falls apart, knowing she's missed three years of her granddaughter's life, and rage begins to take over, violence wanting to come out.

Sofia took my flesh and blood; she left me knowing she was pregnant. How could she? It doesn't matter what I fucking did; that's my child, and she took her!

Alexandr kneels in front of me when he notices my expression and my hands balled up into fists so tight they've gone white.

He speaks, his throat scratchy from his tears, "We can't be mad about her taking off and running away. You can't be angry with her, brother. She was scared, pregnant, and didn't know what else to do. As far as she was concerned, you didn't love her, and her father sold her for an alliance.

The day she caught you with Candice, brother, that's the day she came to tell you about the baby. She was further along than she thought, and when she heard us talking after the women left, she made the decision to call off the wedding and just let you be a father, but then she learned the baby was a girl and decided to protect her daughter. She planned her escape so your daughter would never have the same fate as her, so she isn't married off for an alliance or betrayed by the people she loves most."

I shake my head, my heart hurting, knowing he's right. I did this; we all did. I broke her, used her, and her family sold her off like cattle. The rest of my family knew and lied to her—people she cared about and loved. We betrayed her; we never should have kept her in the dark.

"What is she like, my daughter?" I whisper, causing my mother to sob harder.

He squeezes my shoulder, and I look up to meet his gaze, his eyes glossy with unshed tears.

"She is amazing brother. They took me back to their apartment. It's small but comfortable, and she showed me all her colorings and toys, and the pictures of our family on the mantel, including a photo of you and Sofia in France at the Eiffel Tower, kissing. Sofia cooked dinner, which she is fucking awesome at, by the way." He chuckles a bit.

I feel pride knowing she kept certain pictures, but I’m jealous because I know if she saw me in that park, she would have bolted.

He continues, knowing the war going on in my head.

"She showed me her room. It's pink with a princess bed, and she showed me the pictures she has near her bed. There's one of us together from your graduation, one of Mom and Dad." Our mother cries even harder, and my father's eyes turn glossier, fighting the tears back. "One of Stefano and Sofia from her graduation."

I hear a sob from near the fireplace. A Mafia don showing his emotions is not heard of, but he's also missed out on everything. He's hurting, too. This is his daughter, his granddaughter, and he knows he's part of the blame, too.

"There's one of you, me and Sergi, one of Victoria and Sofia when she was about six, and one of you and Sofia from when she was twelve and you were sixteen, and you were both at the beach. She's on your back, and you’re both smiling into the camera. Sergi is in the background jumping into a star jump."

I let out a laugh. It started raining five minutes after the photo was taken, and we ended up back at our holiday home in the Hamptons, having a mini campout in the living room.

Alexandr reminds me of the joyful memory.

"She named all of us using perfect Russian and Italian; Sofia has ensured she knows her heritage. You would be so proud." He stops to gather himself.

Emotionally raw, we all get up and sit on the sofa, Stefano staying on the floor, his arms resting on his bent knees.

Alexandr puts two pictures on the table. I look at them, and tears fall down my cheeks rapidly. One of them is Sofia on a beach, heavily pregnant, in a flowy, white maxi dress, her hair in a messy bun on top of her head, smiling happily into the camera. The second is a little girl with dark hair and bright blue eyes, the spitting image of me. I hear the others gasp, looking at the pictures, while I rub a finger over them.

"Once she let me read her daughter a story in Russian at that beautiful little girl's request, I ask Sofia ‘why?’ Why did she tell her all about us and teach her our languages if she wasn't planning on contacting us? I swear, I had to hold back my emotions before I sobbed like a baby with her next words, brother." He looks me in the eyes. "She said, ‘She will always know who she is, her background, her heritage, but more importantly, her family, and when she is older, she can decide what she wants to do.’ If she wants contact, she was not going to stop her from finding her family; she is only going to protect her from the fate she had to endure, only to feel heartbroken and lost when the truth is revealed. She was never going to keep her from us; she was willing to leave it up to her daughter, your daughter, but was hoping she would have had a life first. She wants your daughter to fall in love naturally or have a career, so she wouldn't have had to endure her mother's fate, too."

I hang my head.

"What's her name?" my mother whispers.

I squeeze my eyes tight, waiting to hear Alexandr's reply.

"Mila Maria."

I shoot my eyes open just as my father's emotions give out, and he lets out a sob just as my mother cries harder. Mila, after our babushka. Sofia was close to her. Her grandmother and ours were best friends and had the same names; her grandmother had Mila as a middle name while my grandmother was a first name. Sofia's grandmother died when she was eighteen. My babushka is still strong and will be honored to have her great-granddaughter named after her.

My mother is emotionally drained; you can see it in her eyes, and not only finding out she has a granddaughter but one that's named after her mother-in-law and herself proves too much. She kisses all our cheeks, including Stefano’s, who has silent tears running down his cheeks, and then walks into her suite without a word.

My father walks over to me and grabs me into a hug. "It's going to be okay; we'll get them both back."

I just nod.

Stefano asks, speaking for the first time, "What happens now? I want to see my daughter. I know she feels betrayed, but I need to see her, and I want to meet my granddaughter."

Alexandr lets out a heavy sigh. "She's agreed to meet with Damian tomorrow at a restaurant, The Tavern, at 11 AM, while Mila is at daycare."

I twist my head in his direction, thinking I didn't hear him right, but how he looks at me proves I did. Fuck yes, I hear Stefano sigh, and I know he's not happy, but tough shit.

"She's not ready to see anyone else yet; she knows once you all realize Mila is hers and Damian's, everyone would want to meet her, but she wants to get this one meeting done first." He looks at me. "You have a lot of work to do now, brother; she's quite adamant that there is no future for you two, and getting her back would have probably been easier than trying to convince a mama bear." He smirks at me, the fucker.

I nod, bend down, grab the two photos off the table, and head toward my room to take a shower and plan.

It's time to win my family back!