Page 157 of Hidden Empire

My kind-hearted daughter offers me a sliver of relief from my constant ache. What should be an impossible task is made to look easy by my youngest child.

“You’re incredible, Jade,” I say firmly. “And if you ever are scared or embarrassed or worried about telling me something ever again, just remember that. You’re incredible at eighteen and pregnant, and you’ll be incredible ten, twenty, thirty years from now. Nothing is going to change the love I have for you. Nothing.”

She nods, throat dipping with a swallow. “I’m so happy we had this talk.”

“Me too, sweetheart,” I say, opening my arms. “Come here.”

Damp cheeks hit my chest as my daughter hugs me, tightly wrapping her arms around my back. “Are you going to be nicer to Ivan now?” she asks, the question muffled into my shirt.

“I’m working on it,” I answer, meaning it. Since discovering that he isn’t actually attempting to get his hands on my daughter in her time of need, it’s been easier to tolerate his face.

“And you won’t tell anyone what you figured out, right? I know you’d never out him on purpose, but literally, no one knows.”

“He hasn’t told his brother?” I ask, genuinely surprised.

There aren’t many things I keep from my brother, and my sons are all the same way. Granted, some of them have closer relationships than others, but they each have someone to confide in.

“But he told you?”

Jade nods. “He’s worried that Dmitri might share some pretty disgusting views that their great-grandfather had,” she tells me quietly. “It’s hard to tell him there’s nothing to worry about when he’s so wary. Like, I know Dmitri isn’t like that. But it’s not my place to insist on it, if Ivan wants to be careful, it’s his choice.”

I grunt in understanding. A lot of older, more conservative ways of thinking aren’t uncommon in our world. But Ivan has nothing to fear with The Outfit, and Jade is a good judge of character. I hope that she’s right because if her husband says a word against Nico or Armani, I’ll destroy him.

Clearing my throat, I wipe my clammy palms on my pants. “I found something while you were gone, and I didn’t know if you wanted to see it or not.”

I debated for a long time about even bringing it up to her. Jade still hasn’t opened up about all of her childhood, and I know Kim was monstrous toward her. The Kim I knew… I can’t imagine her having such a dark side. If it weren’t for my own daughter telling me otherwise, I don’t know that I could believe it.

Kim was sweet. She was gorgeous and funny, a light in the shadows of a very rough time for me. I’d never cheated on Alina, but after Matteo was born, we were essentially divorced. She didn’t want any more children, and despite how it may look, children were all she wanted me for. Alina didn’t have an ounce of love for me, and it never hurt like it did the night she told me to find someone else to entertain myself with.

I met Kimberly Donovan that night, working at a twenty-four-hour diner, and our affair lasted three months. She wasn’t a one-night stand, but she also didn’t want to be with me forever. I couldn't divorce Alina, and she wouldn’t be the other woman. I couldn’t even blame her.

“What is it?” Jade wonders.

“You don’t have to see it,” I preface carefully. “But I found an old picture of Kim and me. If my math is correct, she may be pregnant with you in it?—”

“I want to see it,” she cuts in immediately.

“She was horrible to you,” I vocalize, letting her know that I haven’t forgotten as I hold back my anger. “I don’t want you to think I’m showing you this so you’ll see her in a new way, I just want to give you a look into the past. If you want it.”

“I want it,” she repeats firmly. “Please, Dad?”

“Okay,” I agree, pulling a worn envelope from the inside of my sport’s coat pocket. Breathing out, I open it with steady hands, pulling out a nearly twenty-year old photo.

Jade scooches closer, leaning over to get a closer look. The photo isn’t too blurry for being as old as it is. It’s just Kim and I at the diner, standing together under a neon sign. She’s smiling with her hair in a ponytail while I’m looking off to the side, having been distracted by Cesar.

My daughter scrunches her nose, squinting her eyes to get a good look.

“This is where she used to work?—”

“That’s not Kim,” she declares, cutting me off.

My head rears back in shock at her confidence. “Yes, it is. It was a long time ago, I’m sure she looks different?—”

“No,” Jade repeats, shaking her head. “Whoever this is sort of looks like her, I guess. But Kim has a small gap between her front teeth, and she has pin-straight hair.”

Kim has never had a gap in her teeth, they were naturally straight. I’d never seen her hair straight, either. It’s always been borderline curly, like Jade’s.

“This is Kimberly Donovan,” I reiterate. “You can see, her name tag says Kim.”

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