Page 45 of The Pakhan's Secret Baby

I'm not sure what I'm seeing.

This is a woman who has told me she hates noise, and disruption, and anything that interferes with her schedule.

She once made Xavier cry at Christmas dinner because he laughed too loud at the table.

Now she's standing in my hallway swaying with a child she's never met, humming to him like she's been doing it her whole life.

"Rashid." She doesn't look up from the boy. "Whose child is this?" Funny how when she comforts him she's the softestwoman alive, and when her eyes turn to meet mine, the icy glare I know so well comes out.

"He might be mine." I start unbuttoning my coat and watch her expression harden further.

Her eyes are sharp and searching as she studies my face. She's deciding whether I'm telling the truth or being reckless. "You said you were bringing a child. I didn't think you meant a baby. How old is he?"

I shrug out of my coat and move to the coat tree, hanging it there as I speak. "About two and a half."

"Christ alive!" She shifts Lex to her other shoulder and he goes with it, relaxing into her so easily. He's already taken to her while rejecting me. That won’t do. "Where has he been for so long, Rashid? Who has been raising this boy without you?"

"His mother kept him from me. I didn't know he existed until recently." Revealing my shame is embarrassing, but if she's going to live with me she'll learn the truth anyway. There aren't many secrets I can hide from her. The last time I tried she took me by the ear and forced me into my study to get a lecture.

"Who's his mother?" Now the viper comes out, a hissing, spitting anger rising up in her chest. I love that her response to my shame is to feel defensive. When she looks at me I'm the enemy, until someone defies me. Then she's on my side. It's the one thing I can count on—for her violent side to be consistent.

"A woman I was involved with before he was born. It doesn't matter right now. I?—"

"It absolutely matters," she says, cutting me off. She's rocking him still, but her voice has an edge to it now that I know verywell. "Is she someone decent? Is she educated? Does she come from a family I should be concerned about?" All good questions, and none of those answers are any of her business.

"Mother, I'll answer all of your questions when I have answers to give. Right now I'm waiting on a DNA test and I need you to help me with the boy until I get the results." I turn back to face her fully as her eyes go wide. In her day, they relied on people to be truthful and hones,t and they cut out the tongues of those who lied. My father would've had Emory strung up already.

I am a different man. I like to confirm every detail before I make a move, but when I do, everyone knows I'm a hundred percent right. That's why people fear me.

"A DNA test." She shakes her head and huffs out a breath through her nose. "So you don't even know for certain. You took this child from his mother on a suspicion."

"Look at him."

She pulls Lex back from her shoulder and holds him at arm's length the way I did in the car, except when she does it the boy doesn't scream.

He just blinks at her with those dark eyes and his bottom lip pushes out. He's still breathing in stutters as she turns his face gently with one hand, studying his jaw, his brow, the set of his eyes.

Then she looks at me and back at him.

"He has your father's mouth," she says quietly, "and your hair. Exactly your hair when you were small." She pulls him back against her chest and Lex drops his head onto her shoulder again. "How long until the test comes back?"

"Six hours at the earliest. Could be days if the lab is backed up, but Dr. Volkov is rushing it for me."

"Then we need things for him. You can't keep a child this age in a house with nothing for him." She's already walking toward the kitchen and I follow trying to keep up with her suddenly spry movements. My mother's in charge of the boy and I'm just here to make it happen. "Marta," she calls, and the maid appears from around the corner. "Come with me. We need to make a list and someone needs to go to the shops before they close."

Marta looks at me and I nod to give her permission. It's obvious I'm not needed now, though I'm not sure how I feel about that. I didn't bring my son here to be raised by my mother.

He is mine and I will raise him. But Marta falls in behind my mother and the three of them disappear into the kitchen.

I stand in the hallway and listen to her talk to Marta about the boy's needs, and I hear her voice soften again.

Never in a million years did I think my mother would become a saint when introduced to my child, but here I am.

I leave them with Lex and walk down the hall toward my office, but when I push the door open Devid's already sitting across from my desk with two of my men by the window.

They all turn when I come in. Anger is masking their features, and I can tell from Devid's face that whatever he's about to say isn't going to improve my evening.

"Talk," I tell him as I stalk over to my desk and sit down. The old chair groans as I pull it forward and I rub my face of the previous stress to prepare for the current stress I'm about to download.