Page 140 of His to Own

“Once,” he grits out. “Just once. And never again. I’m sure it’s better than how your husband treats you.”

“Actually, Maxim treats me wonderfully. He’s never laid a hand on me.” Except for when I let him spank me. But that’s something my father does not need to know. “Maxim has never hit me across the face. Not like you have.”

He scoffs. “Well, I’m sure it just makes you so happy that your husband so much better than I am.”

“Yes, Father,” I say in a soft voice. “It does make me happy. To have a husband who treats me great and who cares for me has helped heal me. You broke me down. You hurt me in so many ways. So yes, I am happy. But I would have been happier if I just had a father who didn’t hate me every time he looked in my direction.”

“Because every time I see you, I see him. That man your mother fucked.”

“But she never got a paternity test done. She doesn’t even know if you’re my father or not.”

“And we both wanted it that way. Otherwise, if we done it and you were in fact that fucker’s daughter, I would have killed you and your mother. It was better for everyone involved that we didn’t do the test.”

“So I could be your daughter. You don’t know. And if I am truly your daughter, how would you feel that you treated me the way you have for all these years?”

He scoffs. “Don’t psychoanalyze me, Elena.”

“I was innocent and you know it. It wasn’t my fault Mother cheated on you.”

“And it was my fault? She was the one who cheated. Not me.”

I sigh and slump against the beam. “Of course Mom shares the blame. She did cheat. But… you can be controlling. You can be so cold. And you’re a mafia man. It’s not like she had the choice to leave. You could have treated her better. Then maybe she wouldn’t have done what she did.”

“Blame the victim,” he scoffs.

“Isn’t that what you’ve done to me? Blame the victim? I was never at fault for any of it. You should have been angry with her. Not me. I’m so mad that Mom never protected me the way she should have. And I’m so angry with you for never loving me when I was just an innocent kid. Why can’t you love me, Father? Why couldn’t you try?”

“I did try!” he shouts. The sound echoes through the empty barn. “I did try to love you. But every time I’d see your dark hair and I’d think of the man your mother fucked instead of me.”

“You have dark hair.”

“But your mother and sisters don’t.”

I shake my head. “That doesn’t mean anything. Genetics are weird. I could be your daughter.”

“And how would that make you feel? Being my daughter? You tried to kill me. Clearly, there’s no love between us.”

“Because you made it so there wouldn’t be any love between us. Can’t you see that? Can’t you see how you treated me was wrong?”

“Just be quiet,” he snaps. “Enough. I am done talking about this.”

“Pushing this away and hiding from it doesn’t change anything. You treated me, an innocent child, awful because of the actions of my mother. Even your own actions. Please, Father. Just give me that. Just tell me you’re sorry. That you feel some remorse for how you treated me.”

“You would like that? I have nothing to be sorry for. Not when I didn’t cheat.”

“You don’t have to be sorry to Mom. But you should be sorry to me.” I suck in a breath. “But I can’t ask you for an apology. You have to give me one of your own accord and I know you’ll never do that. But I won’t let you make me afraid ever again. I won’t let you have any sort of control over me.”

“Well, I’m happy for you,” he says in a clearly sarcastic way. “If we even make it out alive of this fucking place, then you can go be happy with that fucking husband of yours and we never have to see each other again.”

I flinch. I tell myself that this will be the last time I ever let him affect me. “I loved you when I was a kid, you know. Before you started being extra horrible. Back when you were just cold. I loved you. But then you hit me and then you became even colder and I felt myself remaining small. I never was able to grow big. Until Maxim. He’s helped me.”

Father scoffs. “Well, good for you.”

I fall silent. There’s no point in wasting my voice on him. He’ll never see where he did wrong. He’ll never fully understand how his actions hurt me because he was hurt by my mother. And he thinks he’s the only victim here.

The barn door opens and in walk two men. Both are dressed all in black. Both of them have visible guns strapped to their waistbands.

And behind them… is Aleksander.