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Stasia nodded absently. She didn’t know enough about his past to confirm or deny. “He’s very good at what he does.”

“I’m sure.” The amusement in Claudia’s voice was clear. “I am so happy you’re not alone during all of this, my darling. And I am so terribly sorry I have run away from it all.”

The jovial tone disappeared, replaced by utter sadness. Reaching out, Stasia rested her hand over her mother’s. “Come home with us.”

“I—I couldn’t.”

“You should. You have been missed. And I need your support.” The admission had been particularly hard to make, but her mother should know how much she needed her. The next stage they were about to embark on was probably going to be the most difficult.

It would make an immense difference, having her mother by her side.

“I need time to prepare,” Claudia said after a long, quiet moment. “Please don’t push me, Anastasia. This is very difficult for me.”

“It’s difficult for me too, Mama. I have lost my father.”

“And I have lost a husband.” Claudia lifted her chin, defiance firming her delicate jaw.

“I have lost my entire identity. Who I am, where I belong. Everything.” She spat the words out, full of angry passion. “I was a Renaldi. I had a career. I was an important part of the Renaldi empire. And he took it all away from me.” Her entire body trembled, she was so angry.

“Don’t take your anger out on me. I will not allow it.” Claudia leapt to her feet, her eyes blazing. “You cannot blame me for your father’s actions.”

“Actually, I can.” A sort of calmness settled over Stasia as she rose, facing her mother down. They were of similar statures, but Claudia was shorter and much thinner. Stasia stepped closer, wishing her mother would realize. Wishing her mother knew how her actions all those years ago changed her daughter’s entire life. “You should’ve never had an affair with Michael Worth.”

“And if I hadn’t, then you wouldn’t be here. Is that what you wish I would think? That you’d never been born?” Her mother’s voice had gone shrill.

Stasia recoiled, nausea sweeping over her. “Of—of course not.”

“I never meant for this to happen. It was supposed to be a secret. How was I supposed to know your father was going to become so shrewd during his last days on this Earth, eh? He became obsessed with the idea that you didn’t belong to him. It was too deep a betrayal for him to deal with. He didn’t even want to look at me those last few days. I forced him to. Made him talk to me, see me, and I begged him not to do anything rash. But he didn’t listen.” Bitter tears flowed now, and Claudia shook her head. “He never listened. Just like you don’t listen.”

“What is going on here?” Gavin approached, slipping his arm around Stasia so he could pull her close. “Is everything all right?”

Clearly, it wasn’t, but his appearance, his question diffused their argument somewhat. Stasia sagged against his solid warmth, thankful for his nearness. He was a steady anchor in this turbulent storm of emotion, strong and real for her to cling to.

And she did, unabashedly. Resting her hand on his shoulder, she gazed up at him, blinking back the tears that threatened. “I need to get out of here,” she whispered.

“Excuse us, Claudia,” he said politely, steering Stasia toward the guesthouse. He didn’t ask, didn’t consult, merely took over as if it was his right and took care of her.

She appreciated it more than he’d ever know.

“What the hell happened between you two?” Gavin asked when he got Stasia into his room. One minute, mother and daughter were getting along, chatting amicably while he had to take a call from a client which had taken longer than he anticipated.

The next thing he knew, he’d finished the call and the two women were in a stand off, looking ready to take each other down. Murmuring hurtful, terrible things to each other that neither of them could ever take back.

He’d interfered immediately, without thought. Pure instinct had him whisking Stasia out of there before it got any uglier, though he wasn’t sure if that was possible.

It had

sounded pretty damn ugly already when he broke the two women up.

Stasia settled into a chair, exhaling a shaky breath. “She doesn’t think what she did is wrong. She’s blaming it all on my—father, Giorgio Renaldi, whatever you want to call him.”

“He’s your father. He’s the one who raised you.” Gavin stood just behind her, thankful he could study Stasia without her noticing. Her bent head, the elegant curve of her neck exposed, those stray wisps of hair brushing her skin a temptation he could hardly withstand. “Who do you believe is at fault for this?” He asked the question quietly, not wanting to upset her more.

She whirled around, her eyes wild, her face flushed. “Both of them! She’s the one who had the affair and kept her suspicions of who my real father was from him my entire life. Then he finds out the truth and punishes me. Me! It’s not my fault.”

“No, it’s not,” he agreed.

“So why am I the one left carrying the burden? Why am I the one who’s looked upon with disgust by everyone? Why am I the one who’s been stripped of her family and heritage? What did I do wrong?” She dissolved into tears, great wracking sobs taking over her body as she slumped over. He ached to comfort her, tell her everything was going to be all right but he didn’t know that. Didn’t know how everything was going to turn out for her.

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