Page 58 of The Devil's Daughter

I grit my teeth against sharp anger rising through what had been a willingness to accept everything he said at face value. Anger I didn’t know I’d harbored, but kept buried ever since learning the truth. “You knew what he did, but you didn’t bother to put a stop to it. How does that make you any better a father? You could have been there for my mother. For me!”

He winces, and I know I’ve struck home. He starts to speak, then stops, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

“I will always regret obeying your mother’s wishes that I keep my distance. But I made her a promise never to get involved. I think she only stayed with him because she knew the very second she showed a desire to leave, I would step in and remove him from her life permanently. She endured what she did to protect Julian’s life, and as long as he remained in the picture, I had to stay out of the way. That meant staying away from you as well, because claiming you while he was alive would have made things worse.”

“But he wasawfulto her, to my brothers…”

“But not to you.”

I shake my head, forced to agree on that one point. “I was nonexistent to him. Just like I was to you all those years.”

The accusation does its job, a pained look crossing his face. “I did pay attention. I enrolled Celeste in dance classes so I could keep an eye on your mother, and then later on, you. I was there as much as I had a right to be. I know you were always a bright child; you did well in school, so well you graduated a year early. I have been so proud of you, Arielle. As proud as I am of any of my daughters.”

I grit my teeth against the onslaught of frustration and hurt almost twenty years in the making.

“If you were so proud, why weren’t youthere? I practically grew up without a dad. Mom said she loved you once, before she married Julian. You two mademewhile they were together. Why couldn’t you…” I swallow a lump just to get the words out, tears already threatening. “Why couldn’t you save her from him? Didn’t you love us?”

He leans forward and takes my hand, enveloping it in his bigger ones and squeezing. Then he reaches into his pocket and draws out a handkerchief that he raises to my cheek to dab at the tears that have started to fall.

I stare, still half-enraged, unwilling to break down any more. My teeth are clamped so tight my jaw aches, and the small gesture nearly breaks me.

“Celeste's mother was my soul mate, but Marcella—your mother—was the first woman I ever loved. That you exist is a miracle to me,mija. That you are at all willing to be in my life is the greatest gift you can imagine. I have regrets—things I would change if I could go back to the beginning—but I wouldn’t change anything that might mean not having you or your sisters. I am here now. If you will let me, I would like to be a father to you.”

He tucks the hanky into one hand and squeezes the other, looking into my eyes expectantly. I wipe my nose on the soft fabric, sniffle, and then sigh, squeezing back.

“What does that even mean? I’ve been a Santos all my life. Do I change my name? Do I move back to LA?”

A surprised look crosses his face and he lets out a deep chuckle. “Not unless that’s what you want. Being my daughter only means you will have my support in anything you choose to do. I may be scary to some, but I’m not a tyrant. I take your safety and happiness very seriously, but you will never have to fear me,mija.”

I nod and attempt a smile, then give him a more serious look. “What about Drake and the twins? Do they have anything to fear from you?”

He sits back with a sigh, his eyes narrowing again. “Only if they hurt you. The twins tell me the four of you are… more than friends. I won’t pretend to be happy about the situation, but I’ve learned that love is a far more complicated animal than most believe. The biggest mistake I made in my life was losing sight of what mattered, what was possible.”

He trails off, his jaw clenching as he stares into the distance. I only know the barest gist of his history, so I hesitate to broach the topic. I’m hisdaughter,so wouldn’t it be strange to share a frank conversation about our love lives?

But I am desperate to know this man, to have the kind of relationship I always craved from a dad: one that’s open and honest and kind. And I believe I have a little perspective now that I didn’t have before.

“Did you love him?” I venture in a soft voice. The only sign that he hears me is the slightest twitch of his brows and a glimmer of pain in his eyes. His nostrils flare, and he clenches his jaw before redirecting his gaze to me.

“I loved them both too much to describe. Lola and Amador were two halves to a coin. When I first met her, she was already part of his life. They’d been together for a few months when I moved back to Mexico after Marcella rejected me.” He gives me a sad smile.

“I’m sorry,” I say, not sure how else to respond.

He shakes his head and waves a hand. “It wasn’t your fault. She didn’t believe I was a stable prospect. Marcella wanted a home, a family. Julian was willing to give her what I wasn’t able to, or so she believed. Even though I knew it, it hurt. I couldn’t stay in LA. Amador offered me sanctuary. He was my oldest, dearest friend, which is saying quite a lot at the age we were then. Your age.”

“You were only twenty?” I ask, surprised by this detail.

He chuckles and nods. “I was twenty-two, Amador was twenty. Lola was nineteen. We believed we could conquer the world together, or at least Los Angeles. We did, in a sense. And a good part of Mexico too. We became unstoppable for several years.

“I moved back to LA because I knew the area better. Lola split her time between us. But we were always happiest when we were together in Mexico. She showed me it was possible to find love again—not only that, I’d had it all this time. Vicente … my best friend, had been there, yet I’d never truly seen him.Sheshowed me what I was missing, and between the two of them, I truly understood how rich I was.

“I loved them both, and I destroyed us because I couldn’t see past my prejudice to the truth.”

A movement in the corridor catches my eye, and I see Ben leaning against the wall in the shadows, frowning as he stares at the floor and listens. I don’t give him away, because I think he needs to hear this as much as my father needs to say it.

“So let my experience be a cautionary tale for you,mija. Our empire split down the middle when Lola died, but in truth, the divide occurred much earlier, before she learned she was pregnant with Celeste. I couldn’t come to terms with these new feelings I had for my old friend—feelings I believed were wrong.

“At first I told myself it was only pleasure that mattered—that we did what we did to pleasehermore than ourselves—but Vicente saw things differently. He wanted more of me, outside the bedroom. In my mind, this was not a proper way for men like us to behave. It was my rejection of the truth that started our empire crumbling, that left us vulnerable. That ultimately allowed some enemy to break us in two.

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