The Rogue and His Flower (Princetown Heirs #2)

Chapter 36

DALTON

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

“Ready?” I ask Daisy as she applies a soft pink gloss to her lips the following day. We’ve spent most of the morning in bed, enjoying each other’s company, talking about our future, making tentative plans, and readying ourselves for the fallout.

She places the tube back in her makeup bag and turns to face me, her bright blue t-shirt with unicorns printed across the front clashing perfectly with her lime trousers, and rainbow trainers. “Do you think Carl will like my outfit, I wore it especially for him,” she replies with a naughty grin.

“I’m sure he’ll absolutely love it,” I joke, holding my hand out to her.

Sliding her palm against mine she stands, and I tug her into my arms, pressing a kiss against the top of her head.

“He’s going to hate it,” she giggles, her laughter so fucking beautiful to hear.

As she looks up at me I capture her face in my palms, overcome with a rush of love that for a moment all I can do is stare at her, my beautiful, precious wife. “It’s good to see you smiling again,” I say, pressing a soft kiss against her lips, tasting the sweetness of her gloss.

“I’ve got a lot of things to smile about,” she replies. “I have you. We have each other, and maybe when the timing’s right, we’ll have a family of our own.”

“It may take some time before we can afford IVF treatment,” I warn her, wincing a little at that. “But I’ll work my arse off to make sure I can get that for you because you’re going to be a mother one day. I want that for you so much. I want that for us.”

She nods, smiling. “I’ll work too, we’ll do this together, and it will be all the sweeter for it. This is a partnership, Dalton. It’s you and me, okay?”

“Yeah, it is, isn’t it?” I agree.

“So, how do you feel about living in the flat above the gym whilst we get ourselves sorted?” Daisy asks, her brows pinching together with a frown. “I know it’s not quite what you’re used to, but Drix texted me earlier offering it to us.”

“He already mentioned that to me last night,” I say, swiping my finger between her brow. “And just so you know, wherever you are that’s my home. I’d live in a tent pitched in the ruins if I have to, so long as you’re by my side.”

“I wonder if that old witch would have predicted that the heir to the Gunn fortune would be a man happy to slum it,” she muses, tugging on my hair and pressing a kiss against my cheek.

“Who knows,” I chuckle, nuzzling my face against her neck. “All I care about is making a home with you, wherever that may be.”

“That’s very good to know.”

“And Sterling has already begun the process of transferring the five million to my account. He’s arranging a viewing of his current art pieces to some interested buyers in a gallery in London at the end of next week, so we’re covered where the debt’s concerned,” I add.

“I’d love to see his paintings. Do you think he might let us go too?” Daisy replies.

“I’m sure he would,” I say. “I’ll give him a call.”

Daisy’s hands glide up my back, as she hugs me. “I guess this is it then, shall we get it over and done with?” she asks.

I nod. “Yeah, let’s do this.”

We enter my father’s office a few minutes later, our hands tightly intertwined as we brace ourselves to face him. The scent of cigar smoke and polished leather lingers in the air, the familiar sound of a ticking clock on the mantelpiece echoing throughout the room, like an ironic countdown of sorts.

My father sits behind his grand mahogany desk, wearing his usual sharp, tailored suit, giving off a picture of authority and excessive wealth. As we step inside, he looks up from his desk, a dark expression on his face.

“Yes?” he questions, easing himself back in his chair as he eyes us both.

“There’s something we’d like to discuss with you,” I say, guiding Daisy to the seat opposite my father. She sits, and I stand beside her, resting my hand on her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze, her presence grounding me.

“Father,” I begin, my voice steady as I meet his gaze. “There’s something important that we need to discuss with you.”

“Is that so?” he questions, his tone clipped as he glances between us both.

“As you know, Daisy was rushed to hospital a month ago,” I begin.

“I’m well aware,” my father replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

“And—”

“I’m also very aware of why she was in hospital,” he adds, his lip pulling up in a sneer. “So, as a matter of fact, it’s quite fortuitous that you’re here now.”

“You know?” Daisy questions, her voice steady despite the tremble of her hands.

“You really think that you could keep something like that from me?” He shakes his head with a scoff.

“Who told you?” I ask, my fingers gripping Daisy’s shoulder.

“I may be old, but I’m not an old fool. In fact, I pride myself on being very observant. The dinner we had recently, and your reaction to Florence’s pregnancy was enlightening to say the least,” my father says pointedly to Daisy, before settling his narrowed gaze on me. “Not to mention your rather aggressive request to run the hotel in Paris. So, I did some digging of my own, and this morning received the news from an unscrupulous nurse at the hospital who was very eager to tell me everything I needed to know after offering her quite a substantial amount of money in exchange for that information..”

“You conniving bastard!” I snap.

“With that in mind, I’d like to speak to Dalton, alone,” he says directly to Daisy.

“Whatever you need to say, you can say it to the both of us,” I retort tightly.

“Very well,” he replies, before opening the top drawer of his desk and pulling out the contract we both signed.

He presses his finger against it, sliding it across the desk. I stare at it, hating everything it represents—the man I was, the obligations expected of us both, the sheer lack of any care or compassion for myself, let alone Daisy.

“Do I need to remind you what you both agreed to in this contract?”

“We’re fully aware of what’s enclosed, and your point is?” I ask.

“This contract was drawn up to protect us all,” Carl continues, looking pointedly at me.

“No, that contract was drawn up by a selfish man who doesn’t give a fuck about protecting anyone but himself. Cut the shit, and say what’s really on your mind.”

Carl slides his gaze from me to Daisy. “You lied.”

“I lied?” she repeats, looking up at me in confusion, before turning her attention back to Carl. “About what exactly?”

“About your ability to conceive a child of course!” Carl says, his voice laced with ice. “And before you try to lie to me, don’t.”

“Daisy did no such fucking thing, you bastard.” I say, gripping her shoulder.

“Well?” Carl snaps, ignoring me and demanding answers of his own.

“I never lied about anything,” Daisy replies, her voice trembling with repressed anger as she tries to remain calm in the face of his hostility. “When I signed the contract I believed I could have a child. I had no idea this would happen.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to him, Daisy,” I say, sliding my hand across her shoulder to cup the back of her neck, stroking my thumb against the base of her skull in an attempt to soothe her.

“Yes, you do,” my father insists.

“Christ, what kind of man are you?” I ask, anger bubbling inside of me like a kettle on the boil. “She’s been through enough. Don’t make her relive that again.”

Daisy presses her eyes shut briefly before blowing out a steadying breath. “It’s okay, Dalton,” she says, trying to reassure me before continuing. “I went into this with every intention of having Dalton’s child, and I was devastated when I found out the news. I wasn’t being deceitful, I had no idea about my medical condition, and yet, despite everything that’s happened, something wonderful has come out of this. I love Dalton with everything I am, and he loves me. Surely that has to count for something?”

“You do realise this changes things significantly?” Carl asks coldly.

“Do you not even give a shit about what Daisy has been through? She miscarried our baby. She had an ovary removed for fuck’s sake. She’s been through hell. Where’s your sympathy?” I seeth.

“In answer to your earlier question, I’m the kind of man who has his son’s best interests at heart,” he retorts. “And sympathy does nothing to solve this rather disappointing issue, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Don’t give me that bullshit!” I spit, vibrating with anger now. “If you had my best interests at heart you’d be trying to salvage our relationship by making amends for your shitty fucking behaviour, but instead you shove that fucking contract under our noses. I’m not your fucking business associate. I’m your son, and Daisy is my wife.”

“In an arranged marriage,” he reminds us both with a sneer. “One you both signed up for, and one that had certain stipulations,” he adds, tapping the contract as he glares at Daisy. “Marry my son, give me a grandchild, and Drix’s debt would be cleared. But it seems you’re incapable of fulfilling your end of the deal.”

“Truthfully, I don’t know,” Daisy replies stoically. “There’s the possibility of IVF. It might work, it might not.”

“IVF?” Carl spits with a shake of his head. “No.”

“No?” I question. My voice is low, controlled, as my hand drops from the back of Daisy’s neck, and my fingers curl into fists. I’m one fucking step away from beating the shit out of him. Daisy notices and reaches for my hand, she brings it to her lips, kissing it.

“Don’t, Dalton. It’s not worth it.”

“I’m not throwing good money after bad,” Carl continues, giving Daisy a dismissive look.

“Good money after bad?! I suggest you fucking apologise you piece of shit, or this day might just end up being your worst,” I growl, giving him a warning, even though it’s more than he fucking deserves.

Daisy sighs. “Carl, we both came here this morning knowing how you would react, but a part of me had hoped that maybe you’d love your son enough to support us. I know you dislike me, I can live with that, but I don’t understand how you could want anything other than happiness for Dalton.”

“Happiness has fuck all to do with this!” he snaps, face reddening with anger.

“My dad would be so disappointed in you. If he were alive?—”

“He’s not, but I am,” my father cuts in and Daisy visibly jerks as though he’s slapped her.

“Enough!” I shout. “That’s enough. You’ve said your peace, and now we’re going to say ours.”

“No, I’m done listening to you. This is how this whole fucking shit show is going to play out,” my father continues, steamrollering the conversation like he always does. “You will divorce Daisy, releasing you from this marriage, and you will find someone else to impregnate.”

I knew this was coming, but the effect of his words is no less of a punch to the gut. Daisy’s eyes fill with tears, but she holds her chin up refusing to let him get the better of her, of us.

“Absolutely not!” I growl, shaking my head vehemently. “I’m not divorcing Daisy. I love her.”

“It’s not up for discussion,” my father replies coldly. “You have an obligation to your family name and legacy.”

“I don’t give a fuck about our family name or legacy,” I snap back. “I care about Daisy and what we have together.”

“This is business, and business comes before pleasure,” he counters.

“This is not fucking business, and you sure as fuck don’t get to dictate my personal life or tell me who I can or cannot love!” I argue back.

“I think you’ll find that I can and will. The debt owed to me remains unpaid, but as a gesture of goodwill, I will release both Drix and Daisy from the debt so long as you divorce her. If not, Drix will return to his duties effective immediately!” he shouts, spittle flying from his mouth as he slams his fist on the table, causing Daisy to jump in her seat.

“A gesture of goodwill?!” I bark out a laugh. “You’re asking me to divorce the woman I love and call that a gesture of goodwill? Fuck you.”

“Releasing them both from this debt is a pretty good deal, don’t you think?” he counters. “Just do as I say, and this will all be over.”

“FUCK YOU AND YOUR DEMANDS!” I roar, and in two strides I’ve got my father by the lapels of his jacket and am lifting him roughly out of his seat.

“Ah, there he is, I did wonder when you’d finally grow a backbone,” he taunts, calm yet smug.

“You’re nothing but a piece of shit!” I grind out, shaking him, seeing fucking red.

“You think you can intimidate me? I raised you, boy. I know every move you make before you even think of it.”

“Oh really? You think you know me that well, so what’s my next move?”

“You will come to your fucking senses. You will release me, say your goodbyes to Daisy and divorce her, then you will remarry and give me a fucking grandchild. Then and only then will you inherit your billions as planned.”

“No!” I spit back defiantly.

“Dalton, let him go,” Daisy says standing.

I flick my gaze to Daisy, shaking my head. “He’s just insulted you, insulted our relationship. I’m going to fucking murder him, not let him go!”

My father throws his head back in a maniacal cackle, the sound echoing off the walls as he taunts me with pure malice.

I lose it.

In a blur of motion, my fist connects with my father’s nose, a satisfying crack resounding through the air as blood sprays from the impact. A mixture of fury and pain twists my father’s features as he stumbles backwards.

“You fucking shit!” he growls, reaching up to touch his nose as he stares at me, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he rocks on his feet and grasps the back of his chair to keep himself steady.

"I won't be controlled by you a second fucking longer," I say, my voice thick with anger. "This is over."

“The hell it is!” he counters, reaching for the contract and waving it in front of my face as blood drips from his nose. “This contract and a debt of eight-point-five fucking million states otherwise.”

I snatch it from him, then rip the contract in half, throwing it on the table. “It’s over. You’ll have all your money by the end of the month. In fact, I can give you five million now as an act of goodwill,” I retort, smirking as his face pales.

“You don’t have that kind of money.”

“It will be in your account in a few hours. The rest will follow. Daisy and I are done with you,” I say, rounding the table and taking Daisy’s hand in mine. “You okay?”

“I’m more than okay,” she replies, rising onto her tiptoes as she kisses me. “I’m so proud of you.”

“If you walk out of that door, you will no longer be my son. I will cut you off. You will live a life of a fucking pauper!” my father warns.

I let out a bitter laugh. “I was never your son. I was only ever your property. That ends today. Daisy and I will make our own way, and we will show you that love is far greater than any amount of wealth. So go ahead, cut me off. It’s a debt I’d gladly pay to be free of you!”

“You’ll come running back, and when you do, don’t expect anything from me!” he shouts back.

Gripping Daisy’s hand, we walk over to the door, opening it. I throw one last look over my shoulder and say, “Goodbye, Carl. I hope you enjoy spending the rest of your days alone, and when you realise you’ve lost everything worth living for, because believe me that day will come, don't expect any sympathy from me.”

With that, Daisy and I walk out of his office, leaving behind not only my inheritance, but also the toxic relationship that has plagued me for years. I feel a rush of freedom, of empowerment, knowing that we are now in control of our future, and feeling all the more richer for it.