Page 35 of Code Name: Dante

“I’m fine.”

“Liar.”

He smiled, but when his eyes met mine, I could see the weight he carried. Not just physical exhaustion, but the burden of protecting everyone while trying to bring his brother to justice. Without thinking, I reached out and touched his face where tension had carved lines around his mouth.

He caught my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “Lark…”

The warmth of his skin against mine made it hard to breathe.

“What’s on your mind?” His voice was low, intimate in the quiet room.

“I’m not sure how much more I want to know.”

“Hey.” He tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet his eyes. “Tell me what worries you the most.”

“Honestly? That Vincent is my father,” I blurted.

He dropped his hand, turned his body away from mine, and rested against the couch. “Jesus,” he said under his breath.

“Gram said he’s not…”

“He and your mother are the same age,” he said, remembering our conversation like I had. “But…”

“Go on. I want to hear anything that can convince me he isn’t.”

“I don’t think he can have children.”

“Really?”

“I’m trying to remember why I think that’s the case.” His eyes opened wide. “A paternity case. God, I wasn’t very old. Maybe five. That’s why it’s so fuzzy. I just remember how angry our dad was. Vincent was only eighteen at the time.” He cringed, and his eyes drifted closed.

“What?” I asked.

“My father was a violent man.” His gaze met mine again. “Like you not wanting to know, there are things I’d rather not remember.”

“I understand, and I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. Anyway, I wonder if court transcripts exist. Maybe there was proof of his infertility. Not that he or my dad would be above falsifying reports.” He shook his head.

“What?” I repeated.

“He never married, and I always wondered if that was the reason. Something tells me that if he could have kids, he would have. I mean, family is everything to him, not that he has any immediate members left. Unless he’s in contact with our mom. But if he was, why would he keep her hidden away? I could see why if our dad were still alive, since my guess is her reason for leaving had something to do with him. But he’s been dead for years.”

“How old were you the last time you saw her?”

“I was six. Twelve years before the old man died.”

I shifted my body so I could put my arm around his waist again and rest my head on his shoulder.

“What about you?”

“I was a baby when my mom left. She used to send cards, but I don’t remember the last time I received one.”

“I’m sorry, Lark.” He leaned over and kissed my temple.

“The thing about it is, it’s hard to miss someone who was never around, who you never really knew. I mean, I always had Gram. Honestly, it was harder not to have a dad, if that makes sense.”

“It does.” He sighed. “I have to admit, if I found out we were related, it would wreck me.”

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