“MrX,” Morana’s excited voice came from the speaker as she talked fast. “So, I went down under, digitally speaking, looking for more info on the guy she met and I just hit jackpot!”
Dante stilled, his focus on the call now. “You have a name?”
“Oh no,” Morana spoke, enthused. “I have a first name and a photo. How amazing is that? I’m running facial recognition as we speak. Check your email. I’ve sent it to you. It’s encrypted for protection so I’ve sent the code you’ll need to decrypt it as well. Okay, that was it. I have to go now.”
“Tell Tristan to give you a hug from my side,” Dante smiled.
“Fat chance of that,” Morana chuckled. “I’ll just take it myself. Talk to you later.”
The call cut off and Amara felt amazement wash over her again at the crazy stuff her friend did, which she’d never been able to understand. She stood up, her back slightly aching as her bump grew, and walked to his side, curious to see the photo.
Dante opened the email, put in the code, and a flurry of text came on the screen for a split second before the folder opened.
“Xavier,” Dante mused. “MrX. Seriously?”
Shaking his head, he clicked on the photo, enlarging it. It was the headshot of an average looking, clean-shaven, balding man wearing gold-rimmed glasses.
Amara frowned, the photo nagging something in her brain. “I’ve seen him before.”
Dante turned to her, his eyes sharp. “Where?”
She shook her head, trying to remember, his face familiar but stranger. And suddenly, it hit her.
“They showed me his photo,” she rasped out. “During my interrogation, they showed me his photo and asked me if I recognized him. That’s where I’ve seen him!”
Dante clenched his jaw, his hand settling on her hip. “We already know he’s the one who gave the order. And that he was possibly there.”
She felt her mother come to her side, rubbing her back in comfort before suddenly her hand stopped. Amara looked down to see her mother staring at the screen, a look of shock on her face.
“Ma?” she asked, concern washing over her. “You okay? You know him?”
The older woman looked like she was reeling, looking up at Amara with the same green eyes.
“That-that’s your father, Mumu.”
Amara felt her heart stop.
No.
No way.
What the hell was she talking about?
“No,” Amara whispered.
She felt Dante’s grip tighten on her hip, his eyes on her mother.
“Are you sure that’s the same man? Amara’s father?”
Her ma nodded, looking closely at the screen. “He’s aged but it’s definitely him. He ordered your abduction? That’s not possible. No. He’s your father!”
Her father? She’d never had a father. He had left so early in her life she didn’t even remember him anymore. It hadn’t traumatized her or anything. Her mother had been more than enough for Amara. But what the hell?
“I don’t understand,” Amara croaked, confused, scared, not good.
“I kicked him out soon after you were born, Mumu,” her mother told her. “He had been… toxic and I didn’t want that in your life. So I asked him to leave and he left. I was prepared to tell you about him but you never asked in any detail.”
She hadn’t seen that one coming.