I continued dragging my mind for clues that were still loose puzzle pieces in my head. I shook off my raging thoughts, accepting that this may have been an attempt to drive our stress levels even higher.
A man approached us flanked by four guards. Like the guards outside, they didn’t appear hostile, but these were alert and ready if we tried anything.
The man advanced cautiously with an unreadable expression on his face, his eyes fixated on me. His approach caused Tywin to grip my hand tighter before stepping in front of me.
“You can relax, Mr. Vallin. I can assure you I’m not going to hurt her. I would like to introduce myself,” he said in a calm tone meant to reassure us both.
The stranger stood within a few feet of us once I managed to step around and stand beside Tywin who hadn’t moved an inch. The guards eyed my movement and were on high alert like something as small as a twitch from the man would be enough to set them in motion on his behalf.
The man was middle-aged, nice-looking, and depending on what island we were on, he may have been a native. A few crow’s feet had settled around the edges of his eyes and strands of gray hair struggled in a sea of black, low-cut curly tresses. His tanned skin, accent, and exotic appearance would keep most speculating at his heritage.
“Hello, I’m Gemini Bishop the third,” he greeted, reaching his hand out for mine.
“No fucking way,” Tywin muttered under his breath.
Who the hell was this man reaching for my hand? I would have to let Tywin’s hand go first in order to reach for his, and I wasn’t sure I could do it. Shake his hand, My voice of reason kept saying in my head.
After mustering up the courage, I finally released Tywin’s hand to reach for his. When our palms joined and he enfolded my hand inside his much larger one, the connection froze me because it was oddly familiar just like this island.
“Patrena Davis,” I replied in a tone much stronger than the unchecked emotions swirling inside.
His whole body appeared to exhale at my words and a wide smile broke out over his face. “I’m your father,” he stated. He’d made the announcement so casually like he was telling me the sun was shining in the sky. He hadn’t let go of my hand even though it had gone slack.
A glance at Tywin showed him staring at the man like he had seen a ghost. The sight of Tywin like that freaked me out. I had never seen him shaken by anything. I didn’t think a Vallin man could be rattled.
“If you would please join me for refreshments, I can hopefully answer some questions for you and Mr. Vallin.”
“That would be great,” I mumbled, following the man who’d claimed he was my father and who Tywin continued to gawk at.
“Who the hell is that?” I questioned when we began to take careful steps to follow the man.
The synchronized steps of the man’s guards were right on our trail, but the idea that I was about to finally get more answers to the hidden chaos in my life had me moving with a purpose.
“The head of the Ferali Syndicate,” Tywin answered. “Your fucking father is the head of the fucking syndicate,” he proclaimed, his voice sounding breathless.
As far as I knew, my father was already dead. Was this man my father or was this an elaborate trick to get the information my mother had planted under my skin?