Page 128 of The Wrecked One

“I’ll be okay.” I nodded, and Jessica quietly left the three of us in the small windowless room. I imagined for anyone being held there, it felt a bit like being trapped in a concrete box. No one was watching us. No signs of cameras, either. It really was just us, and I wanted to get through this as painlessly and quickly as possible.

We couldn’t head to the hospital to wait for Michael’s surgery there. We’d run the risk of drawing attention to ourselves if we went out in public, so we had to stay on base. I’d still rather pace and wait for news about Michael somewhere other than in Tony’s presence.

I really had to stop seeing his name in italics in my head, like he was a source for a story I was currently writing. Technically, there really was a story there. And once we took down the entire Collective, that news would make one shocking headline.

After Oliver had changed, I’d filled him in on what Tony had said to me on the yacht, letting him know the story as we knew it was incomplete. Now I had to find a way to power through this and get part two for the sake of our mission and for the President himself.

When I avoided eye contact for what he probably felt was too long, Tony cleared his throat, shifting back in his seat. The drugs appeared to have fully worn off. No one had provided him a change of clothes, so he was still in his suit, but it had to be nearly dry at this point. “You’re not talking,” he said. Apparently I got my “stating the obvious” thing from him.

“I’m not the one that needs to talk,” I said, rubbing my arms, finally managing to break through my all-over-the-place thoughts.

He eyed Oliver. “Any chance it could just be the two of us?”

“Not on your life.” We were hanging back by the closed door, Oliver’s arm protectively at my back, hand at my waist, and he drew me closer at Tony’s request for him to leave. “I have a man in the hospital who may or may not survive surgery. And since the Sorens are dead, you and your wife are the only two people I can hold responsible for that. So, I’d speak up, and do it fast before the little patience I have left evaporates.”

“Fair enough.” Tony fidgeted with his wedding ring, spinning it around on his finger. After my parents split, he’d kept wearing the gold band but had changed it to his other hand. I’d never taken him as a sentimental guy, especially given his affairs, but after what he’d shared on the yacht, I didn’t get the ring-wearing at all.

Tony looked down and off to the side, almost appearing reflective. I’d say there was a hell of a lot to reflect on, but I only wanted answers that would lead us to the truth. I was uninterested in apologies or pleas for forgiveness.

There was a question clawing its way to the front of my mind. I’d planned to save it for later, and despite what I’d just said to him, I couldn’t help but seek the truth now with him in front of me. “You told me on the yacht you tried to stop Meryl from having an heir, but she wound up getting what she wanted. What’d you mean by that?”

He locked his gaze on me, revealing, “I had a vasectomy. I wasn’t taking any chances.”

Those words made me feel like I was inside the ring with Hugo myself, taking a sucker punch across the jaw. I would’ve lost my balance had Oliver not been supporting me already. Because that had to mean . . .

“No, you’re not my flesh and blood,” he confirmed. “I didn’t want to get attached to you, and I did my best to not love you as my own child, but it happened anyway.”

“Explain.” The word barreled fast from my lips. “Whose daughter am I?”

“You’re still my child. I raised you,” he responded, sounding slightly bitter at my accusation. But what the fuck? “What I’m going to tell you will upset you, and it’s something I’ve been terrified to share with you, because I know how it will sound. And you’ll truly hate me when you hear this.”

Closing his eyes to share the truth was never a good sign.

“Talk,” I sputtered.

He curled his fingers into his palms, setting his gaze on his hands. “Meryl and I had moved to Lake Como a little over thirty years ago. She liked to travel a lot, and one day she came home after a trip to Florence, but she wasn’t alone.”

The pauses. The sweat on his brow. The lack of eye contact. All of it was about to send me over the edge.

“You’re not her flesh and blood, either.” His answer felt tailor-made for a movie, not for real life. Not for my life.

Oh, God. A wave of lightheadedness and nausea hit me, and I nearly fell forward. His words had unlocked the memory-nightmare again, but this time, it was different. I hadn’t been speaking English when I’d been telling myself to run. It was Italian.

“Meryl snatched you from a playground. It wasn’t on a whim. It was premeditated. She’d been waiting for the right child and the right moment, and she chose you.”

Chose me?!

“At least that’s what she’d told me afterward. You were a little over three at the time.” His nostrils flared as he spoke, eyes growing watery as if this was too hard on him, when it should’ve been the other way around.

All I could do was stare at him, speechless. Numb and confused.

“You were a fighter. You got away from her, ran into the woods. She chased you down, and you tripped and fell. Smacked your head. Had a concussion.”

Oliver remained as quiet as I did. Both of us were frozen in shock at the revelation.

“She had someone doctor papers for her to make it look like we’d adopted you. She did this all before ever returning to our home. I’d had no clue about her plan, but I tried to phone the police once I found out. I refused to let her keep you. You didn’t belong to us.” He lifted his hands, shaking his head. Tears, something I’d rarely ever seen from him, spilled down his tan skin. “I know you won’t believe me, but she gave me no choice but to go through with her plan.”

Unable to get my voice to work, I leaned against the wall, pinning Oliver’s arm between it and my back. I was breathing harder now, working to comprehend the incomprehensible.

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