Claiming His Secret Son(38)

“Not willing to gamble on that, I decided to go back to Colombia when friends enlisted my urgent assistance in relocating them. I employed all necessary secrecy methods, and used the money I’d taken from Burton to build shelters and medical centers for those I couldn’t help personally.

“After three years of no developments, I dared to go back to the States for a conference, where I met Rose. Then four years later, when she kept persisting with her partnership offer, I made my most extensive investigations yet. It was then I discovered you’d thrown Burton into that off-the-grid dungeon for the world’s most dangerous criminals and finally felt secure enough to come back. A week later...you appeared again. And here we are.”

Richard stared at Isabella, every word of her revelations a shard shredding his guts.

He’d lived among corruption and perversion so long, he considered only the worst explanation for anyone’s actions. He’d condemned her at face value, hadn’t reconsidered when all his being had kept telling him otherwise.

But what she’d been through wasn’t unique. He’d seen worse crimes perpetrated against innumerable individuals in the world he inhabited. It was what she’d achieved in spite of all the danger and degradation, the way she’d conquered all adversity, built unquestionable success and helped countless others that elevated her from the status of coping victim to that of hero.

And he was the villain. One of the major causes of her ordeals. Even worse, among her unimaginable sufferings, he’d been the one to cause her the most anguish.

And she had yet to mention what must have caused her the most turmoil.

“What about Mauricio?”

She turned, her eyes eclipsed by terrible memories. But there was no attempt to hide anything in them anymore.

“He’s your son.”

He’d already been certain. Still, hearing her say it was a bullet of shame and regret through the heart.

“I discovered my pregnancy just before Burton suspected I might have exposed his secrets. I would have had to run anyway even if he never did, since he would have considered I betrayed him in a way that mattered even more to him. I gave birth to Mauri four months afterward, almost three months before I was due. For weeks I thought I’d end up losing him or he’d suffer some major defects. It took the better part of a year before I was finally assured there were no ill effects of his being born so premature.”

Their gazes locked over the knowledge of yet another crime on his record. Her emotional and physical distress as she’d escaped a madman’s pursuit while carrying the burden of her whole family, not to mention her grief over losing him, must have caused her premature delivery. And what she’d suffered during and after... His mind almost shut down imagining the enormity of her torment.

“But as I said before, I hadn’t put two and two together at the time. So I named him Ricardo, after you.”

The consecutive blows had already numbed him. This new one gashed him the deepest. But he’d lost the ability to react to the agony, just welcomed suffering it.

“By the time I worked out what you’d done, and I couldn’t bear being reminded of you every time I called him, he was two. It took him a year to get used to being called by his second name, my father’s, and another to forget his first one.”

So she’d cherished remembering him for two years every time she’d called their son, until she’d discovered his exploitation and the treasured memories had turned to bitterness and betrayal.

His eyes lowered, seeing nothing but a scape of roiling darkness where the most extreme forms of self-punishment swirled in his imagination like hideous phantasms.

“Now it’s your turn.”

Raising his gaze to hers, he no longer even considered not giving her the truth. Not only what she’d asked for, but his whole truth. Every single shred of it.

What no one else knew about him.

* * *

Isabella felt as if she’d just turned herself inside out.

But besides nearly collapsing after she’d poured everything inside her out to Richard, she felt...relieved. More. Freed. She’d never shared this with anyone. Even her mother and siblings. She’d protected them from the burden of the full truth. Though her mother suspected a lot, she’d never caused her the injury of validating her suspicions or inflicting the details on her.

Now only Richard knew everything about her.

His only overt reactions had been to bring half the bar over, guzzle down half a bottle, then smash a window fifty feet away. Apart from that, it was as if he’d turned to stone. He’d had no response to finding out Mauri was his.

He raised his gaze to her, his eyes incandescent silver, his face an impassive mask. And she knew he’d keep his word, would tell her his side of the truth. He’d warned it would horrify her. She’d claimed nothing ever could again.