Page 13 of Diamond Angel

I can handle Ilarion Zakharov.

“You had months to tell me your story, and you chose not to. You didn’t trust me. So how can you expect me to trust you?”

His eyes cloud over. “Did you ever consider that maybe what I was doing was trying to protect you? You had just lost your mother. Archie’s fate was unknown. I figured I’d spare you the pain of knowing that your father wasn’t just a member of the Russian Bratva—he was a dishonorable,disloyalmember of the Russian Bratva.”

I feel a shiver coming on, but I push it back and try to maintain a brave face. “Whatever you may think, he’s still my father.”

“Are you bargaining now,tigrionok?”

So much for holding back the shiver. It surges through me, making every hair stand on end. How is it possible that hearing him use his old nickname can flood me with so many old feelings? How is it possible that he can still feel so familiar?

Like he’s still mine?

“Does Celine know you’re here?” Saying her name makes me feel instantly nauseous.

“I didn’t want to get her hopes up.”

“Where does she think you are?”

“Celine doesn’t ask questions. She simply trusts that I will tell her what she needs to know, when she needs to know it.”

“Right.” I nod. “That’s why you chose her.”

“She has proved to be perfectly cooperative,” he agrees in a deadpan snarl that leaves me feeling cold.

“Well, then, I suggest you go back to her,” I snap. “And leave me alone.”

“I have every intention of leaving you alone.” He leans back in his seat. “I’m only here to see my son.”

The fear that surges through me then is as hot as that shiver was cold. I have to grip the counter to keep from falling over. I feel Mabel at my back, ready to catch me if I fall.

“You’re not—”

“I think emotions are running high!” Mabel quickly jumps between us. “I find that having a nice meal always calms me down. Ilarion, why don’t you order something? On the house.”

Ilarion just glares at me. I glare right back. “My shift doesn’t finish for another hour and a half.”

He barely nods. “I can wait.”

“Take that booth by the window,” Mabel suggests with a sunny smile. “I’ll bring you a piece of pecan pie. Made it myself.”

Ilarion doesn’t acknowledge that, and he doesn’t move to the booth by the window. I retreat into the kitchen. Mabel follows me there.

“What’s going on out there?” Bruce asks, his brow furrowed.

“Rowdy customer,” Mabel explains, giving him an unconcerned smile. “Brucie baby, take five. Taylor and I need a minute.”

He raises his brows, but he doesn’t ask questions. He just slips out of the kitchen and into the back entrance that leads to the alley with the dumpsters.

“Oh, God,” I whisper, looking towards the swinging doors. “Oh, God…”

“I always suspected that you were interesting,” Mabel gently teases. “I just had no idea you werethisinteresting.”

“Mabel, what do I do? He’s here for my son!”

“Oh, that’s not all he’s here for, girl. No matter what he says.”

I try not to choke on my own spit. “You’re wrong. I know him. The fact that I ran…he’s never going to forgive that.”

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