The Paper Swan

I didn’t know what was going through her head. Was she relieved to finally meet her father? Was she disturbed by what he’d done? Whatever her reaction, sleep didn’t elude her for too long. Children have the remarkable ability to digest, adapt, and take things in stride. Her arms slackened around me and her breath turned long and peaceful as I sang MaMaLu’s lullaby.

 

I breathed in her scent and closed my eyes, stroking her hair. She was my calm in the middle of chaos, a little piece of innocence untouched by the turbulence of the past. I didn’t know how Damian’s presence was going to affect our lives, but I knew things were going to change. I’d had her to myself for seven years and all I wanted to do was hold on to that moment for as long as I could, her cheek next to mine, the weight of her leg securing me from leaving.

 

A floorboard creaked in the room. I opened my eyes and froze. Damian was standing by the door. The expression on his face was so painfully intense, so filled with longing, that the words to the lullaby I was singing left me. It wasn’t the raw carnality with which he’d assaulted me earlier. It was much deeper, as if all of his happiness was contained in that one scene before him: Sierra sleeping beside me, while he stood at the threshold, cut off from it all.

 

A lifetime ago, it had been me, him and MaMaLu, curled up like this.

 

I didn’t have any words, and neither did he. He tried to say something, but his throat clenched, so he turned on his heel and left. A moment later, I heard the soft click of the door as he let himself out.

 

 

 

 

 

THE GATES TO CASA PALOMA were open. It looked vastly different from the last time I’d seen it, but I had no time to admire the changes. I marched up to the front door, surprised to find it was also unlocked.

 

Damian was in the study room, poring over some papers, when I barged in.

 

“What’s the meaning of this?” I waved my bank statement at him.

 

“Good morning to you too,” he said, without looking up.

 

Seeing him in the space I had always associated with my father was strange. Of course, my father had not been around much back then, and when he was, I knew better than to disturb him in the study. Damian did not seem the least bit perturbed by the intrusion. He let me fume for a few seconds before turning his attention to me.

 

“It’s for Sierra,” he said.

 

I almost wished he’d go back to his papers because he was looking at me like he’d been up all night, thinking about me, about what had almost happened the night before.

 

“And you didn’t think to check with me before making a deposit?”

 

He obviously had all kinds of information on me, including my bank account number. I’d blinked twice when I’d seen my balance, but the teller had assured me it was no mistake. Someone had transferred a small fortune into my account. Guilt money. Damian had seen where I lived. He knew how much I made, how much I paid the women in Valdemoros, and what I struggled with to make ends meet. It infuriated me that he didn’t think I wasn’t making enough. Sierra and I weren’t living in the lap of luxury, but how dare he make me feel like I wasn’t giving her the kind of life she deserved?

 

“She’s my daughter, Skye. The daughter you kept from me. I have a lot of years to make up for. You can expect a deposit every month, so get used to it.”

 

“I’ve been taking care of Sierra without your help all this time. If you think you can use her to get to me, you—”

 

“I don’t need to use Sierra. I get to you just fine.”

 

We both knew he was talking about my fevered response to his kisses.

 

“Last night changes nothing,” I said.

 

“Last night changes everything.”

 

Our eyes clashed, gray on black.

 

“Fine,” I said. “Make your deposits. See if I touch a single penny.”

 

Damian got up and walked around to my side of the desk.

 

“It’s very simple. You want the deposits to stop. I want you and Sierra,” he said. “Marry me, Skye.”

 

“Marry you?” I blinked. It was the last thing I’d been expecting. Proposals were supposed to be epic—grand moments that swept you off your feet, not negotiated like some business transaction. “You’re out of your mind.”

 

“Am I?” He swept one arm around the small of my back and pulled me in. “Tell me you haven’t missed me. Tell me you haven’t stayed up nights thinking of how good we are together. Because right at this moment, all I want to do is push you up against the wall and take you so hard that I can’t tell where I end and where you begin. I ache where you’re supposed to be, Skye, and I’m not going to stop until you’re mine. So we can draw this out or we can quit wasting more time. Either way, we’re going to end up right here. Me about to fuck you.”

 

“Is that what this is about? You want to fuck? Let’s do it, Damian. Let’s do it right here on my father’s desk. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Nailing his daughter on his desk. You’ve taken everything else—his company, his home, his life—so why not his daughter? He’s gone, Damian, but you’re still trying to prove a point.”

 

“This is not about that,” Damian growled. “You and I have never been about that, so let it go.” He clamped down on my wrists as if trying to make me drop it.

 

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