“Nonsense,” she said crisply. “She's your daughter. She must live with us.”
His eyes widened.
“You would…do that?” he said stiltingly.
“Of course!” She frowned. “What I don't understand is why she's still living in this house with a nanny. Why hasn't she been living with you since you got custody?”
“I work such long hours, and travel so often to New York. I thought it better to let her stay in her home…”
She stopped him with a look. “In the home where her mother was beaten to death?”
“You're right, you're right.” He clenched his fists, pressing them against his eyelids. “The truth is, I want her with me. Every day. But she refuses to leave this place. When I try to pack up her things to take her, she screams bloody murder and clings to Angelique.”
“I don't like that woman, Diogo. I don't trust her.” She wants you for herself, she added silently.
“Catia has lost her mother. She doesn't know me. And I just can't get through to her.” He leaned his head in his hands. “I thought if I gave her a few months to grieve, she would be willing to accept her new life as my daughter. Now I'm at the end of my rope. I don't know what to do. Aside from inviting Angelique to live with us, as well.”
Angelique—living with them? She stared at him, aghast. “You just need to be firm.”
“Be firm?” He gave her a gaunt smile. “With a five-year-old child? Drag her kicking and screaming from her home? I haven't the heart, Ellie. I can't do it.” Sounding weary, he added beneath his breath, “God help me, I don't know what to do.”
She stared at him for a moment. Gently, she reached over and stroked his dark hair. He looked utterly beaten. Diogo Serrador, the barbarian of Wall Street and scourge of the steel industry, looked defeated and destroyed.
Ellie stroked his head. Closing his eyes, he gave a sigh, turning his cheek toward her caress.
She had to do something. She couldn't bear to see him suffer like this. Or the poor child, either. She had to fix this. Had to make them whole again.
“I am going to help you,” she said steadily.
Diogo opened his eyes to look at her. His expression looked so vulnerable. Strikingly boyish. And she realized that he blamed himself for everything. For Yasmin's death. For his daughter's pain. The child he hadn't even known existed until a few months ago…
“What will you do?”
She kissed him softly on the forehead. “I'll go talk to her. It's going to be all right, Diogo,” she said. “I promise.”
The terrible hope in his eyes as he watched her go almost broke her heart.
She went down the hall to the kitchen, but didn't find either Catia or her nanny. Frowning, Ellie went upstairs. She stopped when she heard voices behind a bedroom door.
“Your daddy doesn't love you,” she heard Angelique say. “He's just like the other bad man I told you about, the one who hurt your mama. I'm the only one who can keep you safe. If you let him take you from the house, he will hit you and yell. Unless I'm with you. So just remember—don't leave here without me! And then—” her voice changed, becoming calculating “—I'll marry him and never have to work again…”
The little girl said something so softly that Ellie couldn't hear. The nanny gave a hard snort.
“Oh—her. She's not your new mommy. But don't worry. We'll soon be rid of her.”
Ellie threw open the door. She saw a smug nanny and tearful child, and fury went through her to her bones.
“What are you telling her?” she demanded.
“What do you mean?” Angelique said with an innocent smile. “Just telling her to be a good girl for her father. Shall we go down now for lunch, madam?”
Ellie grabbed the other woman's wrist. “You horrible, horrible woman. You—are fired.”
“Fired!” Real fear went through her eyes. “You can't fire me! Only Mr. Serrador can do that!”
“Get out!” Ellie shouted, and the woman ran. “Get out before I hit you with my shoe!”
Catia gave a terrified little squeak, and Ellie fell on her knees in front of her. “It's all right, sweetie,” she said gently. “It's all right. Angelique was just being mean. And wrong. Your father loves you. He would never, ever hurt you!”
She tried to give her a hug, but the girl shrank back with a fearful gasp. Poor Catia really believed every evil lie that Angelique had told her. Desperately, Ellie said, “We want you to come home with us, to stay—”
“No!”
Tears filled her eyes at the motherless child's confusion and grief. She took a deep breath, praying for a way to reach her. “We want you with us. You'll have your very own room. Lots of toys, and—”