Page 20 of Nico
"That says nothing."
"She's also a dead ringer for when you were a child. The only difference is the blonde hair." She lifted a hand to her own elegant coif. "I'm going to insist on doing a DNA test, but I would say it's a complete waste of time." Her eyes went to Brigette. "Now, why don't you tell the rest of the story. And why you're really here."
Brigette pressed her lips together and took a shuddering breath. "I'm—that is—Julian, my husband and I are moving to Italy. And he doesn't want a child."
Understanding dawned.
"So, you are leaving her here. What the hell kind of mother are you?"
Angry tears gathered at the back of her eyes as she looked at Nico. "You think this is easy for me? I love Gracie."
"You have a hell of a way of showing it." Nico wanted to smash something. He had a child, one he never knew existed. "Why didn't you tell me?"
She lifted her chin. "You left." She lifted a hand. "I wanted more, and you left."
His eyes glittered ominously as he took a step towards her. "So, this is revenge? Because I ended the relationship, you decided that I had no right to know of the child?"
Her lips quivered and she felt fear piercing through her at the furious look on his face. She had loved him once or thought she did. He had been gentle, and kind and they had had fun. He had treated her with the utmost respect. They had been two lost souls together, or so she had thought. She was an artist too, but on a much smaller scale. They had bonded over paintbrushes and exploring galleries. She had known he was wealthy, but he had always been so normal and was never stuck up. She had been attracted by his down-to-earth manner and his distracted manner.
Brigette wiped a trembling hand across her cheek, her gaze fixed on her lap. The room seemed to close in, the silence heavy and suffocating.
"I didn't come here to hurt anyone," she said quietly, voice raw. "I thought I was doing the right thing, but nothing about this feels right anymore." She swallowed, her voice barely above a whisper. "Gracie deserves to know her father. She deserves to know where she comes from."
Nico's jaw clenched, his hands balled into fists at his sides. He struggled to contain the storm of emotions. Betrayal, anger, confusion, all warring within him. Finally, he exhaled slowly, forcing himself to meet Brigette's eyes.
"If you love her," he said, voice tight, "then why didn't you fight for her?"
Brigette shook her head, tears spilling freely now. "I was scared. Julian promised me a new life, a fresh start, and I thought I could give Gracie a family. But I was wrong. He made it clear she wasn't part of his plans."
Nico's mother rose gracefully, crossing to the window. She spoke softly, her tone gentle but firm. "What matters now is Gracie's well-being. The past is painful, but we must focus on her future."
Brigette nodded, her resolve hardening. "I'm not abandoning her. I trust you with her, Nico. She needs you—she needs all of you."
The silence that ensued was finally broken by James who had not contributed to the conversation before. "You're leaving the child with us on a permanent basis?" His expression was inscrutable, and Brigette felt a wave of fear as she stared at him. She knew of his reputation and had thought long and hard about coming to confront the family. But Julian had reminded her that her time was up. She needed the security of his money, and shehappened to love him as well. People might think that it was just his wealth, but there was so much more than that.
"Yes." She whispered.
"Where's the child?"
"Henry took her to another room as she was sleeping." They looked up at the knock on the door and watched as the housekeeper came in with the child's hand tucked securely in hers.
Nico had barely glanced at her before, but seeing her wide awake, he felt the shock going through his system. His mother was right. It was like looking in a damn mirror. The same shade of bottle green eyes zeroed in on him. Blonde curls tumbled around the round face and down her back. She had on a pink sweater and pink pants and was wearing a cute pair of brown ankle boots. Her rosebud mouth was slightly parted. A stuffed elephant (pink) was tucked under her arm.
"Gracie." Brigette rose and crossed to take her hand. "How was your nap honey?"
"Good." She stared at the people inside the room, before lifting her head to look at Nico. "Are you my daddy?"
"I explained everything to her." Brigette told them.
Gracie stood silently in the doorway, hesitant but curious. Her gaze flicked from face to face, searching for comfort or recognition. Nico crouched down to her level, taking in every detail. The way she clung to her stuffed elephant, the wary tilt of her chin, the hope that flickered behind her eyes. He reached out a tentative hand. "Hi, Gracie," he said softly, his voice unsteady but kind. "I'm Nico. Would you like to come sit with us?"
The little girl hesitated, gripping the housekeeper's hand tighter for reassurance. The room seemed to hold its breath. Finally, Gracie let go and took a few small, deliberate steps toward Nico. He offered a gentle smile, and when she paused just out of reach, he didn't push. Instead, he simply waited, letting her decide.
Nico's mother knelt beside him, adding her own warmth to the moment. "You're safe here, sweetheart," she murmured. "We're so glad you're here."
Gracie's eyes darted to Brigette, searching for approval. Brigette nodded, tears still shining in her eyes. "Go on, honey. It's all right."
With a deep breath, Gracie closed the distance and nestled herself between Nico and his mother, her tiny arms hugging her elephant tightly.
