Page 68 of Crave Me

“He would have, yes. But it wasn’t to protect me, Caspian. It was to protect you.”

When I just glared at him, he blew out a breath, then pulled off his locket and turned the photos toward me, holding it out between us. Gesturing at the photo of Bianca, he told me, “Twenty five years ago, the love of my life was stolen from me. My fiancé. The queen to the kingdom I was building. My everything. At the time, I was in the process of fighting my father, Marco Mancini, for control of the Syndicate. He’d become unhinged, making dangerous moves, committing horrific atrocities—horrific even by the standards of our world. I had a lot of support, I was right on the verge of taking control, and I was so completely focused on it that I was blindsided by an underhanded move from him.” Emotion swam in his eyes. “He came for Bianca. She was heavily pregnant at the time. He shot her and left her to die like trash in the streets. I arrived on scene just as he’d fired… I saw her fall… I was able to get her to the hospital.” He sucked in a breath. “They managed to stabilize her, remove the bullet, but our baby was in a great deal of distress. We both knew it was a risk for her to endure more surgery, but she insisted… she couldn’t lose our child. So… she underwent an emergency C-Section, the baby was saved. And she… she wasn’t… she bled out… they couldn’t save her.” He ran his fingers over her picture reverentially. “As I explained, I was in the midst of war with my father at the time. It was dangerous. I’d just lost my fiancé. It wasn’t safe for a newborn baby. So, I called on a powerful and influential friend for help, one of the very few people I could actually trust back then.”

“Jameson King,” I choked.

“That’s right.” He took a moment, then went on, “Together we manufactured a carefully constructed cover up. Everyone, including my father, was led to believe that the baby had died along with Bianca that night too. And I… I had to give up my child.” Our eyes met as he revealed. “To Jameson and Laura King.”

I tugged at my hair, struggling to wrap my head around it all.

It had me slumping down into my leather chair.

“The Kings had been trying for a child for a long time, but Laura had miscarried several times. Another had actually befallen them a week before I showed up at their door. As awful as it was, we were able to use that as part of our cover up, so the public and everybody in their lives believed the pregnancy had made it to term.” He looked out at me. “That my child was theirs.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

“It took two years for the Mancini Syndicate war to end, for me to put down my father. For it to be safe again. I came back for you at that point. But when I saw you with Laura and Jameson… you were so happy and cared for… so well-adjusted… so secure and loved by them… I realized that your best chance was with them and not me, not what I was caught up in. There might have been a period of stability right after the conclusion of that war, but in my line of work, it would only ever be a matter of time until all hell broke loose again. Bringing you back as mine would have painted a target on your back immediately, endangering you forevermore.” He shook his head sadly. “It was best that you lived as a King, not a Mancini.”

“Dante… fuck,” I muttered.

He grasped my hands on the desk, his eyes burning into mine. “Caspian, you are my flesh and blood. My son.”

I jerked my hands away. “I can’t… this is…”

“I wanted to tell you so many times. So many.”

“But you didn’t. Not even when they were murdered!”

“That would have been the worst time for me to intervene. It would have impacted you taking over King. My grief and rage and thirst for vengeance at the time would have infected you. I couldn’t allow that. But I was there watching, always watching and ensuring you were well. The idea that you would be poisoned by my legacy, my reputation… it repulsed me. But then Elijah came into the picture. It shifted things. You’d become so powerful, so influential and delved into illegitimate operations similar to mine, that it pushed me to break my vow to myself. You needed my help. Advice, direction.” He slumped into the chair dejectedly. “I’d planned to tell you the night of the takedown once victory was ours. But then things went to hell.”

He smiled sadly as he gazed at the locket photos. “You have her hair and her beautiful hazel eyes. My build, though, and—”

“Stop,” I said, shooting to my feet.

“Caspian, wait, I—”

It was too late, I was out the door in the next second.

16

~Skylar~

I listened to the shower running as I looked around Bastian’s room.

The IV and everything was now gone.

As per the doctor’s recommendation, he didn’t need it anymore, and it was time for him to slowly start getting up and about again.

I mean, he still had to take it easy and also complete his course of antibiotics, in pill form now via the vial on his nightstand, but he was definitely doing well. So much better actually.

Looking at the books and controllers, along with the numerous games all over the bedspread, it was clear he was in a frustrated state, having tried to keep himself occupied while he’d basically been forced into bed rest.

I’d come in here to help him to take a shower, but he’d beaten me to it, clearly wanting to do it on his own.

I started tidying up the bed when footsteps caught my attention and I turned to see Damien rounding the corner in the next second.

He pulled up short when he found me in here and Bastian missing from the bed.

And then his eyes lit up. “He’s up and about?”

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