Chapter 11
I slipinto Thane’s office chair and tap the track pad of his laptop to wake it. Inserting the USB, I click on the small yellow folder that pops up and find a myriad of files, including three letters each labeled with a different name—Thane, Tarian, and Theodore.
The files contain all our details, right down to blood type and medical backgrounds. It must be information my mother has gathered because I doubt Thane would need any of this. It does beg the question, though, if Thane knew what my mother was planning, why didn’t he try to stop her.
There’s a folder with a video file attached, but I don’t know if I want to open it. The thought of seeing her face and hearing her voice makes me nervous. I’ve never been scared in my life, not even when I found out my parents had died. I’ve always been strong, until now.
Standing up, I walk over to the bar and pour myself a double shot of whiskey. Then returning to the desk, I settle back down in the chair, gulp down my drink, and take a long, deep breath.
Thankfully I’m alone. I’m not sure I’d be able to do this if Grecia was watching. The thought of her seeing me like this doesn’t sit well. I’m willing to show her my strength, but showing her any weakness is far too intimate.
Opening the letter labeled with my father’s name, I sit back and read the contents. The words slowly sink into my soul, tarnishing and darkening it to the point of pain. According to my mother’s version of events, she endured violence I never knew my father was capable of inflicting. Instances of the abuse she suffered riddle her confession about the man she married.
Growing up, I never saw my parents fight. Never heard them argue. But what my mother’s describing here makes him sound like a tyrant. I continue scanning her words until I reach the last paragraph, which I read in full.
It was alwaysmy dream to escape from your rule. I was desperate to be free from your heavy hands and violent words. With your death, I found my freedom. I never wanted Tarian to join the Sovereign, but you were adamant, so I honored your wishes and left him to be raised in Tynewood. I’ll make sure Thane does what’s needed, and after I’m gone, Tarian will know the truth about how you behaved when anger took hold of you. I don’t intend to live this life much longer, but before I go, I’m planning to see our son one final time.
I don’t understandwhat my mother means. She made me believe she was dead, and when she returned a few months ago with Thane, she didn’t even offer me a second glance. Granted, I didn’t give her much of a chance. I was too angry. But this letter suggests that she cares about me and wants to see me.
I flick through the folders, and there, scanned into the laptop, is my father’s will. The document that was read out after his death. I open the images and scrutinize the words my father had agreed with his solicitor. The signed document confirms what I already know. My father wanted me to become a Crown, and he wanted his brother to raise me in the event my mother passed away.
I wish my mother was here so I could question her, but I know she’s not in this house. If she was, Thane would’ve told her to come to see me. Or he would’ve insisted I go to her.
Next, I click on the letter addressed to Thane. It looks like it was saved only a few months ago, around the time my mother came back to Tynewood and I found out she was still alive. I can’t read my letter yet. I need more time to adjust to the truth about my father.
My dearest Thane,
You’ve given me a life I never thought possible, but my son has always been the one thing that’s missing.
As much as I love you and want to spend eternity with you, by your side, I know it can never be. Our star-crossed love was destined to die.
There have been many times over the years when I’ve done things that I haven’t been proud of, but even when you learned about them, you still loved me. I never deserved you, and I didn’t deserve the beautiful boys I gave birth to.
When you talk to Tarian, tell him I wasn’t worthy of either of them, but I pray he can find it in his heart to forgive you. I know I’ve hurt my son, but please don’t cause him any more pain by telling him the other things I’ve worked so hard to hide. He can never know what I did.
I never expected Tarian to want me in his life, but I need to see him one last time. Once I have, I beg you to end my suffering as I asked you to do on that fateful night I killed your brother. I did it because I knew you never could.
You’ve always been far too soft for this life. You would never have made a Crown, because you have to be ruthless to be one. That’s why I never wanted my son to become part of the Sovereign. I didn’t want him to lose his humanity. However, Theodore was insistent that Tarian should join, and I wanted to abide by his last wishes. My son was always destined to become a Crown, and now he’s an adult, there’s nothing I can do about it.
No parent can stop their children from doing what they want, especially once they are of age.
Before I go, I want to say one last thing. I want you to know I will forever be grateful that you chose me over the family that you could have had. Even though you have a daughter, you gave her up for me. You chose me over a life that would have granted you everything you craved—a wife, a child, and a happy ever after.
When the time comes, I beg of you to grant my final wish.Don’t doubt my choice. It’s what I want.
I know you’ll be able to finish what I started and remember to be there for Tarian. He’ll need you.
All my love,
Your darling
Confusion settles in my gut,and I haven’t even gotten to my letter yet. None of this makes sense, and nothing she’s said in these two letters offers me any answers to the many questions I have.
I stare at the screen for so long my eyes burn, and I have to close them to stop the emotion from welling up and trickling its way down my cheeks. The last time I cried was when I stood and watched my parents’ coffins being lowered into the ground. Well, I watched my father’s body get buried six feet under. The other coffin, which should’ve contained my mother, was empty. I didn’t know it at the time, but now I do, I never want to cry for her again.
My father always taught me forgiveness, but I can’t find any in my heart for her. Even if she walked into this room right now, holding a gun to her head and pleading for me to forgive her, I couldn’t.
The thought of never seeing my mother again doesn’t fill me with dread. In fact, it calms me. Does that make me exactly the same as my uncle? Perhaps. But when it comes to her, I don’t care. No mother should abandon her child.
“Hi,” Grecia’s soft voice comes from the doorway, causing me to open my eyes, and look directly at her.
She’s wearing a short nightshirt, or something similar, and I can see every inch of her long, lithe legs.
“What are you doing here, Grecia?”
“Thane said I should keep you company,” she tells me, padding into the office in her bare feet. “He’s been very nice to me.”
She sounds as shocked about that as I feel. I half expected the asshole to kill me the moment I stepped foot off the plane.
I watch her as she moves about the room before making her way to the bar to pour herself a whiskey. One thing I’ve learned about Grecia is that she’s no fragile girl. She’s a fighter and can be strong and vicious when she needs to be.
“So, you decided to come down here in a skimpy nightshirt. Why?” I arch a brow at her, noticing her cheeks turn dark pink when she looks over at me again.
“I had a shower, and there was nothing to wear. Our suitcases are still on the plane. I found this shirt hanging in the closet of my bedroom, so I put it on.”
She settles in the seat across from me, and my eyes lock on the hemline of the shirt as it slides up her tanned thighs. Jesus fucking Christ.
“Do you enjoy taunting me?” I question.
Grecia smiles but doesn’t answer. Instead, she lifts the glass to her lips and sips the amber liquid. Her lips shimmer with the alcohol, tempting me to claim her mouth, to kiss her like she craves to be kissed, and to taste her along with the smokiness of the whiskey.
“How do you get on with your mother?” I ask her suddenly.
It’s a random question, but it’s a change of subject that I’m hoping will calm down the hard on I’m trying desperately to hide from her.
Hazel eyes lock on mine with intense curiosity burning in them.
“Okay, I guess,” she shrugs noncommittally, her gaze lowering to the glass in her hand.
Grecia’s response is evasive, and I wonder how she really feels about her mother, but I realize I shouldn’t have brought the subject up.
“I’m sorry. I should never have asked,” I tell her.
Her pretty eyes snap back to mine, shock written on her face, and I know she wasn’t expecting me to apologize or show any empathy toward her.
I’m cold and standoffish with her, most of the time, but it’s for her own good. I don’t want her to want me.
But even as I think it, I know it’s a lie.