Page 151 of Bishop

“You all need to stop.” I raise my voice, battling emotion. “You’ve assumed that I want Tilly back. And I assure you, that’s not the case. Not once have I indicated I’m capable of being a mother.”

Lorenzo stiffens.

They all do.

It hurts. Oh, God, it hurts.

Their confusion. Their judgment. My guilt.

“But they took her from you.” Salvatore frowns. “I thought that’s what all this was about—getting her back.”

“They did take her.” I nod over and over, my eyes searing with heat. “But I’m not a mother. All I want is Tilly’s safety.”

“Mia cara nipote,” Lorenzo murmurs. “Why would you not want to raise her yourself?”

Because I don’t deserve her.

Because I’ve already failed her.

Because no innocent little girl should be punished with the childhood she’s already had to then be raised by a mother like me.

“This was never about gaining custody.” I hold my head high. “It’s about taking control away from Adena. What I would like to do is determine if my daughter is living with a loving and nurturing family. And if she is, I want them relocated somewhere my mother will never find them.”

“And if they don’t want to relocate?” Remy asks.

“With enough financial incentive I’m sure it won’t be a problem.” Lorenzo watches me with pity I can’t stand. “It would be my honor to take care of that financial burden for you. And to fly them wherever you decide is best.”

My heart breaks—a million tiny pieces scattering at my feet.

This is what I want, yet I feel nothing but sadness. Failure.

I squeeze my arms tighter around my chest, stopping the weakness from bubbling to the surface. “Thank you.”

“No.” Bishop shakes his head, his narrowed gaze scrutinizing me. “I call bullshit. You want your daughter. You’re just scared.”

My stomach bottoms, the limited contents of my gut threatening to make an introduction to everyone around me.

He’s wrong.

It’s not fear. It’s value. And I’ve long since been unworthy of my little girl.

I can’t tell him though. Even if I could admit to my insecurities, the tightness of my throat won’t allow me to utter the words.

“Jesus Christ, Bishop,” Matthew mutters. “You can’t say shit like that.”

“I can say whatever the damn hell I want when she’s talking out her ass.” He steps closer, leaning in to demand my attention.

I tilt my head away, refusing to meet his gaze, my eyes blistering, my chest restricting. “Back off.”

“You heard her.” Salvatore encroaches. “Back the fuck off, you arrogant piece of shit.”

“You want your daughter, belladonna.” Bishop remains in place, ignoring the threats, pretending nobody else exists. “Admit it so we’re all on the same page when it comes to getting her back.”

“Bishop,” Lorenzo warns. “Leave it be.”

“No.” He leans his head to the side, making another attempt to get within my line of sight. “You want your daughter. Why is that so hard to admit?”

I drag a deep breath in through my nose, my teeth clenched hard, my stomach tensed to the point of pain.

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