Page 42 of Savage Redemption

He shakes his head. “I don’t want to do that.”

“But you said you wanted to be in her life.”

“And I do, but not in that way. I want to share. I want to be there, to support you. Support her.”

“It’s impossible. Too much has happened. My family…”

“Your family love you. That much is obvious. They love Erin, too, and they will want what is best for her.”

“You think that’s you?” Surely, he can’t be serious. “You’re a criminal. A… a Mafia boss.”

“Actually, I am not. Not any longer.”

“What…?”

“You might say, I have retired. I am a respectable businessman these days. Well, more or less respectable. And I believe I can help, with Erin.”

“I don’t need help. We’re fine.”

“I do not doubt that. Nevertheless, she is my daughter, and I wish to get to know her. Starting now. May I?”

He holds out his hands, silently asking me to place my baby in them.

“You won’t hurt her? Or try to take her?”

“I have said so. She is my daughter, I love her.”

“You don’t even know her.”

“How does that make any difference? I have loved her since I learned of her existence.”

I gape at him, unable to argue with that. I felt just the same, the moment I gazed at that blue line on the pregnancy test. “Okay, just for a minute. And you have to give her back if she gets upset.”

“Of course.”

So, I pass her to him. “She can sit up on her own, you just need to hold her like this…”

His smile is dazzling. I’d forgotten — nearly — just how devastatingly handsome Adan San Antonio was. Is. He gazes down at Erin, adjusts her so she’s comfortable. And mutters something to her in Spanish. Any remaining fears disintegrate. Hedoeslove her. Incredible, fantastic though that may seem, it’s true.

I’m mentally sifting through the series of bizarre claims he’s made in the last five minutes. “You said something earlier, about you keeping her safe.”

He meets my gaze. “I did.”

“Can you explain?”

He nods. “It was Kaminski and Bartosz who said I was dangerous?”

“That’s right. Baz spoke to my dad. He told him we needed to go somewhere safe. He arranged for us to come here.”

“I know.” He sighs. “I did a deal with Kaminski to get my freedom. Bartosz set it all up. There was a ransom, and my family refused to pay it.”

“Oh. But why?”

“I assume they didn’t especially want me back. One of my cousins had taken over the Domingo family and saw no reason to change things. They were happy for me to simply disappear.”

“That’s awful,” I blurt.

“That’s business,” he replies. “Murky, brutal, but business even so. Bartosz came up with the proposal that I could pay my own ransom. I wasn’t always a Mafia boss, as you put it. Before Alejandro and Mateo died, I was the moneymaker for the firm. I was an entrepreneur, and I had a flair for it. I made millions of euros to pour into the Domingo coffers. Frankly, I was better at that than I was at leading a Mafia family, but circumstances changed, and needs must. There was a vacancy suddenly. It was expected, so I stepped up. You know how that worked out.”

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