The drive to Lenka's home feels interminable. My fingers drum restlessly on my thigh as I stare out the window, barely seeing the city streets blur past. By the time we pull up to her modest brownstone, my patience is threadbare.
I don't bother knocking, using my key to let myself in, since the house belongs to me. Lenka would do well to remember she lives off my generosity.
The house is the same as always and I can hear my mother-in-law laughing gaily as if nothing at all is amiss. For her sake, I hope she’s on the phone and doesn’t have guests. Since I can’t hear anyone else, that’s likely.
I storm up the stairs, taking them two at a time. As I reach the landing, Lenka's laughter cuts off abruptly. She must have heard my approach.
“Hello? Niko?” Her voice wavers, uncertain. "Is that you?"
I burst into her bedroom without preamble. Lenka sits on her bed, phone still clutched in her hand, eyes wide with alarm.
"Where is she?" I demand, my voice a low growl.
Lenka blinks rapidly, confusion evident on her face. "Who? What are you talking about?"
"Don't play dumb with me," I snarl, advancing on her until I’m close enough to pluck the device from her fingers and cut off the call.
"Emylyah. Your daughter. My wife. Where the fuck is she?"
Lenka shrinks back against the headboard, alarm replacing confusion. "I-I don't know. Isn't she with you?"
I slam my palm against the wall, making her flinch. "No, she's not fucking with me. She's gone. And you're going to tell me everything you know about her past. Right. Now."
Lenka frowns, the expression looking all kinds of odd on her botoxed face. "What? I don’t understand. What happened?”
“Someone sent me a marriage certificate which makes your daughter a bigamist, and our marriage unlawful, remember?!” I bellow at her in disbelief. I know she’s not that dumb.
She tries to play it off. “Oh, it’s not that big of a deal,” she argues, waving her hand dismissively. She really should know better. I am not a man to toy with.
Crowding into her personal space, I cage her with my arms, forcing Lenka to lean back. “Emylyah is pregnant with my child,” I force out between gritted teeth. “And because of this, my son will be born a bastard, with no more legitimacy than if he were born to a mistress,” I tell her with deceptive calm.
Lenka's eyes widen in shock. "Pregnant?" she whispers. For a moment, genuine concern flashes across her face before she schools her features. "I... I didn't know."
"Start talking," I growl, my patience at its limit. "Who is Zack Kincaid and why did you marry your twelve-year-old daughter to him?"
Her facade crumbles, and she slumps against the pillows, suddenly looking every one of her fifty-five years.
She takes a shaky breath. "We were running. Always running. Emylyah’s no good asshole father all but handed her to Vito Rossi. I couldn't let that vicious bastard have her. The marriage was meant to protect her. If she was married to someone else, the Viper couldn’t take her for his wife. He didn’t want her until she was sixteen, so I had time to do something…”
Ironically, and despite the swirling chaos of emotions churning within me, I can't help but grudgingly acknowledge the twisted brilliance of Lenka's desperate move. In her own warped way, she shielded Emylyah from a fate far darker than I had ever imagined. Her actions, though reckless and fraught with danger, were a testament to the fierce love that drove her to unimaginable lengths to protect her daughter from Vito Rossi's clutches. The truth fires through my veins like ice and flame mixed together - a mother's desperation carving out a fragile defense against the merciless world we inhabit.
“Gordon Kincaid - Zack’s father - was an… acquaintance of mine.”
I read lover, and her next words confirm it.
“We’d hook up when our paths crossed. It suited him because he didn’t want anything permanent, and I was safe because I never stayed in one place for too long. But over time and pillow talk, he came to understand my predicament. Marrying Lyah to Zack was his idea. Not for free, of course; he wasn’t that generous. But I had the money. I paid him $100,000, which was worth a lot more back then, than it is now. And in return, I insisted on a contract for Lyah’s ongoing protection. Since it didn’t affect him, Gordon was happy to oblige.”
As the weight of this revelation settles on my shoulders, I feel an unexpected wave of gratitude mingling with my frustration. Lenka may have made her choices out of fear and necessity, but those choices - no matter how flawed - allowed Emylyah a chance to escape a life that would have consumed her innocence and turned her into a shell of ash and despair. So even though my anger simmers beneath the surface, I can't fully condemn Lenka for doing what she felt was right.
But I can blame her for manipulating the arrangement between Emylyah and myself, when she knew her daughter was already married.
I take a deep breath, forcing a calm I don’t feel as I process everything. "So, you married her off to protect her from the Viper. That much I can understand. But why did you seek an alliance with me when you knew it wouldn't be legal?"
Lenka's eyes dart away guiltily. "I discovered Lyah was coming here and staying with Roisin… those girls, they were always trying to fool me!”
I say nothing, waiting for her to continue.
“The Viper was here in Manhattan, and Emylyah was right under his nose. The marriage to Zack Kincaid was just a piece of paper, and I was terrified Vito would recognize her, take her… he’d been pursuing her half-sister for years, after all, as a replacement.”
