Chapter 8 - THE LIE NICO TOLD ME FOR THREE YEARS
I called Nico from the hospital parking lot.
My hands were shaking.
He answered immediately.
“Hannah?”
“Did you know my father was alive?”
Silence.
I closed my eyes.
“Nico.”
He exhaled.
“Yes.”
The word destroyed something inside me.
For three years, I'd loved him.
Defended him.
Stayed awake waiting for him.
Believed that beneath the violence and coldness was a man who could never deliberately hurt me.
Now I understood how wrong I'd been.
“You knew?”
His voice broke.
“I found him shortly after we met.”
I began crying.
“And you didn't tell me?”
“Hannah, listen—”
“No.”
My voice rose.
“No more explanations before the truth.”
He went silent.
I swallowed.
“Why?”
For a long moment, he didn't answer.
Then he whispered:
“Because my father left documents saying Daniel Bennett betrayed our family.”
I stared at the pavement.
“So you believed him?”
“At first.”
“And later?”
Nico's breathing changed.
“Later, I discovered the documents were false.”
My heart stopped.
“When?”
A pause.
Then he whispered:
“Eighteen months ago.”
I covered my mouth.
Eighteen months.
For half our relationship, he'd known my father was innocent.
Alive.
And waiting.
But he'd kept silent.
“Why?”
Nico's voice broke.
“Because I was afraid you'd leave me if you discovered what my father had done.”
I laughed through tears.
“So you lied to keep me.”
“I know.”
“You let me grieve a man who wasn't dead.”
“Yes.”
“You watched me cry on Father's Day.”
His breathing became uneven.
“I know.”
“You held me while I told you I wished I'd met him.”
“Hannah…”
I ended the call.
Then blocked his number.
For the first time since leaving the penthouse, I didn't feel sad.
I felt furious.
Nico hadn't merely dismissed my love.
He'd stolen my right to know my father.
That evening, Evelyn accompanied me into the medical facility.
The hallway smelled of disinfectant.
Soft music played near the nurses' station.
I walked toward Room 214.
My heart pounded.
Inside, an older man sat beside a window.
Silver hair.
Thin hands.
A worn blue sweater.
He looked up when the door opened.
For a moment, he stared.
Then his eyes filled with tears.
“Margaret?”
My throat closed.
I shook my head gently.
“No.”
He stared harder.
Then whispered:
“Hannah?”
I began crying.
“Yes.”
He held out his arms.
“My little sparrow.”
I ran to him.
For the first time in my life, my father held me.
I sobbed against his shoulder.
He held me tightly.
“My baby girl.”
We cried for a long time.
Then he pulled back.
His eyes searched my face.
“Where's Margaret?”
My heart tightened.
“Mom died six years ago.”
His expression collapsed.
He covered his mouth.
For several minutes, he couldn't speak.
Then he whispered:
“She promised she'd wait.”
I held his hand.
“She did, Daddy.”
He began crying again.
But when he finally looked up, his expression changed.
“Hannah, there's something you must know about Nico.”
I froze.
“What?”
My father gripped my hand.
“He didn't come here just to hide me.”
I stared.
“Then why?”
May you like
Daniel swallowed.
“Because someone was threatening to kill you, and Nico was the only person who knew how to keep them away.”
