Page 133 of Gamble with Me
“Zyon?” my mother’s voice echoed through the room, and Zara flinched.
“Under the table, Mom!” I yelled, taking Zara’s hand. “Don’t be scared, princess,” I whispered, smiling softly at her. “She is nice. I bet you’ll like her.”
“But the intruder.” She frowned at me, yet her expression immediately changed when my mother crouched beside the desk.
“Aren’t you a little too old for hiding under the table, son?” Mom asked, her face with bold, dark makeup turning surprised when she noticed Zara. “Ooh, you’re having a party under here. Can I join you?”
I moved toward Zara and bent my legs to make a place for my mom. She crawled opposite me, grinning. Her long black hair framed her oval face with gleaming, mischievous black eyes and brown-painted plump lips.
She was a walking, breathing advertisement for a Gothic queen, and I deeply loved and admired her style. Truth be told, my own preferences evolved from her unique fashion choices. In her fifty-eight years, she looked more like my sister than my mother, and muchyounger women envied her stunning figure and the unshakable confidence with which she held herself.
“What is the reason for this secret meeting, little lion cubs?” Mom smiled at Zara, poking her leg with her extravagant shoe. She called us by the nickname she used on my brothers and me when we were kids, and we planned mutiny against Dad’s rules.
“My mommy is in the hospital,” Zara mumbled, moving closer to me. Her eyes were glued to my mother’s face. She was evidently nervous.
“I heard.” Mom nodded, her eyes softening. “But don’t worry. She is strong. She’ll be home in no time.”
“I want to know what happened to her.” Zara’s determination to find the truth both impressed and scared me. The girl set her mind on a goal, and nothing could take her away from it.
“Sometimes, you meet people that will hurt you, sweetheart,” Mom said in a velvety voice that I knew so well. “The world is full of monsters.”
“My father is a monster,” Zara burst out, her eyes watering, but she kept a strong facade. I admired her more and more with every passing second. “Was it him?”
My mother looked at me as if asking for permission to confirm Zara’s assumption, but I still hesitated. On the one hand, I wanted to shout from the roof that Chester was a fucking bastard who beat women, but on the other, I didn’t want to break Zara’s heart.
Wrapping my arm protectively around her slender shoulders, I pushed myself to keep my word and tell her the truth. I lied to Valeria only once about winning money from Chester in a poker game because she would have never accepted it. I even chose a stalker name Zefarin, which was my middle name, so as not to tell her bullshit, and I didn’t intend to do that to my princess, either. She deserved honesty.
“Yes, Zara,” I let out after a long pause, glancing into her big sad eyes. “Your father attacked your mom.”
Her lower lip and chin quivered, and tears streamed down her flushed cheeks. I pulled her closer to me, and she leaned into my side, sobbing quietly.
“I’m going to find some chocolate,” Mom said, touching my hand when I smiled at her gratefully. “God knows we deserve it.”
She winked at Zara, who peaked at her from behind my arm and crawled away. Her heels clicked on the floor until she disappeared into the kitchen, probably turning the place upside down.
“Am I a monster, too, Zyon?” Zara interrupted the heavy silence filled with pain that settled around us, raising her head to look at me.
“What?No, princess,” I claimed without hesitation, shaking my head firmly. “Where did that come from?”
She shrugged, staring at her hands.
“I’m a child of a monster,” she whispered, fresh tears falling from her eyes.
“That’s not true.” I gently took her chin between my thumb and index finger, forcing our gazes together. “You’re not his, Zara. You’re mine.”
The innocence and hope in her eyes completely disarmed me. She owned my heart like no one before her. It was incomparable to what I felt toward Valeria or my family members. It was a totally different kind of love than I had ever experienced.
Did my parentsreallylove me that much?
“Will you be my dad?” she whispered, fear sneaking into her irises. A smile tugged on my lips, and warmth spread from my stomach.
“I was worried you’d never ask,” I joked, poking her side with my index finger. She giggled, a bubbly sound tingling my ears.
“So, will you?” She pushed my hand away, demanding an answer.
I exhaled dramatically, teasing her a little before replying.
“If you want to be my daughter, Zara, then yes, I will happily become your dad,” I said, probably shining like a Christmas tree from my happiness.
