Cruel Inheritance

CHAPTER SIX

Kira didn't sleep.

The message echoed in her head all night. She's his. And he wants her back.

Marco knew. After five years of hiding, of running, of sleeping with one eye open — he knew where they were. Someone in Damien's house had told him. Someone had betrayed them.

She lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling, her mind racing.

Who?

A servant? A guard? Someone Damien trusted?

She had no proof. Just a sick feeling in her stomach.

But her gut had never been wrong about Marco.

Morning came too fast.

Kira barely slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Marco's face. Every time she opened them, she saw Damien's.

She dressed in the same gray dress. There was nothing else to wear.

A knock.

She opened the door.

Damien stood there. His tie was loose. His eyes were tired. He looked like he hadn't slept either.

"We need to talk," he said.

Kira stepped aside. He walked into the room, the first time he had entered during the day without demanding something from her.

"I've been thinking about the message," he said. "About Marco."

"What about it?"

"Someone in my house told him you were here. Someone around us."

Kira's heart pounded. "Who?"

"I don't know yet. But I will." He turned to face her. "In the meantime, security is doubled. No one goes near Sofia's room without my permission."

"That won't stop him."

"It will slow him down."

Kira wrapped her arms around herself. "He's not going to stop, Damien. Not now that he knows where she is. He wants her because he wants you to think she's his."

"You keep saying as if she's not."

"Because she's not."

"Then whose is she?"

Kira looked at him. The truth sat on her tongue like a stone.

Yours. She's always been yours.

Marco drugged me. Nothing happened. The baby was always yours.

But Marco's voice echoed in her memory — five years old, calm, cruel.

Tell him the truth, and I'll kill what you love most.

She couldn't. Not yet. Not while Marco was watching. Not while Sofia was still so vulnerable.

"I can't tell you," she whispered.

"Can't or won't?"

"Both."

Damien's jaw tightened. "You're going to have to trust me eventually."

"I trusted you once. You left me."

His face flickered. Pain. Guilt. Something else.

"You were in bed with my best friend."

"I was drugged."

The words hung in the air.

Damien stared at her. For a moment — just a moment — she saw doubt in his eyes. The same doubt she had seen five years ago, before Marco's lies had sealed her fate.

"If that's true," he said slowly, "why didn't you fight harder?"

"I was unconscious."

"When you woke up."

"I was half-conscious. Disoriented. You were already gone by the time I made it downstairs." Kira's voice cracked. "I called your phone forty-seven times that night. You never answered."

Damien's hands curled into fists.

"I was drunk."

"For five years?"

"No. Just that night. And the night after. And the month after that." He looked away. "Natalia found me in a hotel room. I hadn't eaten in days. I was half-dead."

Kira's heart broke.

"I didn't know."

"How could you? You were gone. You disappeared. You took his child and ran."

"She's not his child."

"Then stop saying that and tell me the truth!"

Kira flinched at his raised voice.

Damien stepped back. Ran a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't mean to —"

"Yes, you did." Kira's voice was steady. "You meant to yell. You meant to intimidate me. You've been doing it since I got here."

Damien said nothing.

"I'm not your enemy, Damien. I never was. Marco is your enemy. He's been your enemy since before we met. He wanted your life. Your power. Your wife. And he took all of it."

"He took you?"

"He took five years of our lives. He took the chance for you to watch your daughter grow up. He took the chance for her to know her father."

Damien's jaw tightened.

"If she's mine —"

"She is."

"If she's mine, why didn't you come to me? Why didn't you call? Why didn't you find a way?"

"Because Marco said he would kill what I love most. I thought he meant you. Then I realized —"

"He meant her."

"Yes."

Damien was silent for a long moment.

"He's not going to touch her," he said finally. "Not while I'm alive."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

Kira spent the morning in Sofia's room.

The door was locked. Two guards stood outside. The windows were bolted. It felt like a prison within a prison.

Sofia was playing with her stuffed rabbit, oblivious to the danger. She was too young to understand. Too innocent to know that a monster wanted to take her.

"Mama," Sofia said, "why are there so many people outside?"

"To keep you safe."

"From what?"

Kira brushed the curls from her daughter's forehead. "From nothing, baby. Just grown-up problems."

"I don't like grown-up problems."

"Neither do I."

Sofia hugged her rabbit. "Is the scary man coming back?"

Kira's heart clenched.

"No, baby. He's not."

She didn't know if it was a lie or a prayer.

At noon, Natalia knocked on the door.

Kira stepped into the hallway. Damien's sister looked different today — less hostile, more tired. Her eyes were red, like she had been crying.

"Damien told me," Natalia said.

Kira's heart stopped. "Told you what?"

"About Marco's message. About someone in the house working for him."

Kira waited.

"I've been thinking about who it could be," Natalia continued. "There are only a few people who knew you were here before Marco's message arrived."

"Who?"

"The guards. The servants. Damien's assistant." Natalia hesitated. "That's it. No one else knew."

Kira's hands shook.

"Do you have any idea who?"

"Not yet. But I'm watching everyone."

Kira nodded slowly.

"Thank you," she said.

"Don't thank me. I'm not doing this for you." Natalia's voice was hard. "I'm doing this for Sofia. She didn't ask for any of this."

Kira nodded again.

Neither of them said anything else.

That afternoon, Dr. Velez called them into her office.

Damien was already there. His face was grim.

"Sofia's heart surgery is scheduled for ten days from now," Dr. Velez said. "That will buy her time. But the bone marrow transplant remains the critical issue."

"I understand," Damien said.

"The national registry has no matches. The international registry has no matches. Without a family donor, Sofia will not survive."

"You said a sibling could be a match."

Dr. Velez nodded. "Cord blood from a newborn can be used for a bone marrow transplant. The success rate is high, especially if the sibling shares both parents."

Damien was quiet for a moment.

"So we would need to have another child."

"Yes. And that child's cord blood would be collected at birth and used for Sofia's transplant."

Kira's hands trembled.

"How long would that take?" she asked.

"Pregnancy is nine months. Sofia has maybe eighteen months with the heart surgery. It's tight, but possible."

"And if the baby isn't a match?"

Dr. Velez hesitated. "Then we try again."

The room was silent.

Damien looked at Kira. She looked at him.

Nine months of forced proximity. Nine months of sharing a house, a child, a body. Nine months of pretending the past didn't exist.

"I'll do it," Damien said.

Kira's breath caught.

"What?"

"I said I'll do it. The baby. The cord blood. Whatever it takes to save her."

"Damien —"

"She's my daughter." His voice was hard. "I've already lost five years. I'm not losing her forever."

Dr. Velez nodded. "I'll schedule the necessary tests."

She left.

Kira sat frozen in her chair. Damien stood by the window.

"Why?" she asked.

"You heard the doctor. It's the only way."

"That's not why."

He turned. "What do you want me to say? That I forgive you? That I want you back? That this changes everything?"

"No. I want you to tell me the truth."

Damien walked to her. Knelt in front of her chair.

"The truth is, I don't know how to feel," he said. "I've spent five years hating you. Five years telling myself you were a liar and a cheat. Five years building a life without you."

He reached out. His hand touched her cheek.

"And now I find out I have a daughter. A dying daughter. A daughter who needs me. And the woman I hated is the only one who kept her alive."

Kira leaned into his hand.

"I don't forgive you," he said. "Not yet. Maybe not ever. But I won't let her die because I'm too proud to ask for the truth."

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Don't thank me. Just help me save her."

He stood.

"Come on," he said. "We need to tell Sofia."

Sofia was sitting up in bed, coloring in a book, when they walked in together.

Her dark curls were tangled. Her face was pale. But she smiled when she saw Kira.

"Mama! Look, I drew a rabbit."

Kira sat on the edge of the bed. "It's beautiful, baby."

Sofia looked at Damien. Her smile faded.

"Why is he here?"

Damien stood by the door. He looked uncomfortable. Unsure.

"Because he needs to talk to you," Kira said gently.

Sofia clutched her stuffed rabbit. "Is he going to be mean again?"

Damien walked to the bed. Knelt beside it.

"No," he said. "I'm not going to be mean."

Sofia studied him with her dark eyes.

"Then why are you here?"

Damien was quiet for a moment.

"Because I'm your father," he said.

Sofia frowned. "I don't have a father."

"Yes, you do."

"No. Mama said I don't."

Kira's heart broke.

"Because I didn't know," Damien said. "Your mother didn't tell me. But now I know. And I'm not going anywhere."

Sofia looked at Kira. "Is he lying?"

Kira shook her head. "No, baby. He's not lying."

Sofia turned back to Damien. She studied his face. His eyes. His jaw.

"You look like me," she said.

Damien almost smiled. "You look like me."

Sofia thought about this.

"Does that mean you're going to be my dad now?"

Damien's voice cracked. "If you'll let me."

Sofia looked at her rabbit. Then at her mother. Then at Damien.

"Okay," she said. "But you have to be nice. And you have to bring me apple juice."

Damien laughed. It was a broken, rusty sound — the first laugh Kira had heard from him in five years.

"Deal," he said.

Sofia held out her small hand.

Damien shook it.

Kira watched them — her daughter and the man she had loved, finally meeting as father and daughter.

It wasn't forgiveness.

It wasn't healing.

But it was a start.

Is this the start of something great?