Page 55 of Inked Adonis

“… but you’ll never see your son again.”

My stomach plummets. I don’t have to wonder what her choice was. My entire life, I’ve wondered where my mother was and why she left.

Now, I know.

I don’t feel any better.

“He’s only two, Natalya. He’s a baby,” my father continues. “You’ll never see him again. I won’t allow you to come back.”

Her eyes dart back and forth like a trapped animal. The silver in them has dulled to lifeless gray. Then:

“Okay.”

The screen cuts to black. Silence rings in my ears.

“You wanted to know who your mother was,” Leonid says, sinking to one knee in front of me. “That was who she was, boy. She gave you up for petty cash, and she never once looked back.”

I stare at my hands. If I move, I just might break.

“Look at me, boy.”

I have no choice. I drag my gaze to his. When I open my mouth, raw sobs rip from my throat instead of words.

“Stupid child,” His snarl slices through my grief. “Don’t waste your tears on her. She never shed a single fucking one for you. The next time you cry for your junkie mother, I’ll make you sit through this video again. You hear me?”

I nod obediently.

I have no choice.

Twenty-seven years later, I’m sitting in my office, watching a tape of another woman.

Nova would never believe it, but I hate monitoring her every move. I despise searching for signs of deception and betrayal, always bracing for the next knife in my back.

When I see her cross the screen, pacing from room to room like a caged bird, all I see is my mother.

“How long have you been poring over that footage?”

I didn’t hear Myles come in. I shut the laptop screen as he shifts behind me.

It’s one thing for me to torture myself watching Nova move through her gilded prison. It’s something else for Myles to spy on her, too.

“I’m just being thorough.”

That’s not a lie. I know every fucking second of her waking world. Nova spends most of her days trying to train Rufus, who seems to find joy in doing the exact opposite of what she asks until she laughs and gives him a treat anyway. In between, she ignores the food I have sent to her and cooks for herself, she ignores the maid I pay for and cleans up after herself, and she calls her grandmother and Hope.

For anyone else, watching her would be mind-numbing. But I can’t tear my eyes away, no matter how much I wish I could.

“And?” Myles leans against the glass wall, arms crossed. “What’s the verdict?”

My jaw locks down tight. I should feel victorious about my next words, but something dark and jagged rips through my chest instead. “It’s looking more and more like she’s innocent.”

“Just another pawn.” He sighs like this is all so predictable. “Once again, you’ve got an innocent little bird trapped in the palm of your hand.”

“‘Innocent,’” I murmur. “I don’t think there is such a thing.”

“Maybe not for you or me. But not everyone has a closet full of skeletons.”

My arms cross over my chest, hands curling into fists tight enough to leave half-moons in my palms. “Some people bury them in the backyard. But everyone has them. Just because a person looks innocent doesn’t mean they are.”

---