Chapter 44
TRENT
Ididn’t want to leave Charlotte. Walking away from her had been hell, especially while she’d still been wearing my shirt, smiling up at me like she was half asleep and a little in love, but Nate and Alex had practically herded her to breakfast like a pair of overbearing guard dogs.
Honestly, that was the only reason I’d let myself leave.
She was safe with them and they all needed a minute together.
If it had been up to me, I’d have taken her back to bed and kept her in my shirt while I licked her until she screamed my name, but judging by the look on Alex’s face when he’d finally comprehended that she and I weren’t just playing pretend anymore, I was assuming they needed to have a frank conversation.
What I needed while they were bickering about it was to face Douglas without her anywhere near the fallout.
I’d been over this for some time now, the politics of it all, but after getting a taste of what life would be like with Charlotte once all the drama was over, I wasn’t about to wait for someone else to settle it anymore.
I understood that this was sensitive business.
At its core, it was a family issue involving centuries’ worth of tradition and how the Westwoods did things, but I’d given Alex and Douglas a chance.
I’d taken a backseat as far as I’d been able to in order to respect their processes, but I was done with that now.
They weren’t doing anything except going around in circles. Mostly because Douglas had put them in a precarious position when he’d signed shit on Charlotte’s behalf that he never even should’ve had drawn up.
The Westwood house looked the same as the last time I’d been here, grand, cold, and sterile in a way that screamed old money and outdated expectations. It was the kind of place where conversations were really just political maneuvers with nicer furniture than was found in most public offices.
But it’s fine. I can play this game.
I knocked hard, letting my fist bang on the wood and then taking a step back.
The butler clearly wasn’t expecting me, but he only blinked twice at whatever expression was on my face before stepping aside.
I didn’t wait for him to announce my presence either, just brushing past him and walking straight down the hall to Douglas’s office, pushing the door open without knocking when I reached it.
Douglas glanced up from a stack of paperwork he was paging through when I walked in, his eyebrows drawing tight. “Trent? What are you doing here? This is an unexpected… surprise.”
“Good,” I replied. “That means I haven’t given you time to rehearse whatever excuses you planned on feeding me when I finally confronted you.”
His mouth tightened. “I don’t appreciate your tone—”
“I don’t care,” I cut in, stepping farther inside. “We’re past the point of being polite, don’t you think? The way I see it, it’s time to just get honest.”
His gaze dropped to the ring on my hand, the one that meant his daughter was mine, and he let out a deep sigh. Leaning back in his chair, he pulled his glasses off his face, holding them in one hand while he fixed me with a look like I was the greatest inconvenience he’d ever come across.
“I assume this is about the situation with Charlotte.”
“The situation has a name,” I pointedly corrected him. “It’s Gregory and yes, it is.”
Douglas exhaled slowly, his head shaking a little like he couldn’t believe he had to explain this to me. “He feels slighted, Trent, and I must admit, I understand why. Everything was progressing well until you decided to insert yourself right into the middle of our negotiations.”
My jaw locked. Inserted myself. Right. Because Charlotte’s feelings are entirely irrelevant in this equation.
I strode to his polished desk and planted my hands on the edge of it, my gaze never leaving his.
“Let’s get one thing straight. Charlotte is not the problem here and neither am I.
You told her to get married and she did that.
Despite how much she didn’t want or expect it at the time, she did it. For you.”
“For me?” He scoffed. “If that was true, she would’ve respected the negotiations I’d entered into on her behalf.”
“Oh, the negotiations you didn’t even respect her enough to mention? The negotiations you entered into that would’ve seen her shipped off to the other side of the world with a man she doesn’t trust, doesn’t know, and doesn’t want to be with? Is that what you’re talking about?”
His teeth ground. “That was my prerogative.”
“Okay. Let me put it to you this way, then. Do you care about your daughter’s well-being at all?”
His eyes flashed. “Of course I—”
“No,” I said, talking over him. “I don’t think you do. Not the way you should, at least.”
A muscle jumped in his cheek. “You’re out of line, boy.”
“Then answer me this.” I leaned in. “Do you know how long she’s been struggling with her mother’s death? How alone she’s felt? How she thought marrying a monster might be the only way to earn your attention and your love?”
“That is not true.” Douglas paled. “We all struggled after Rochelle’s death, but Charlotte has never had to—”
“Yes, she has,” I said, blunt and final. “She told me how she’s always been pushed aside the second you’ve got something better to do. How you’ve treated her like an ornament, an inanimate object who’s not worthy of even being spoken to unless you need something from her.”
Douglas opened his mouth, closed it again, and then massaged his temple with his glasses still in his hand. “I’m not sure where you’re getting any of this, but it’s utter fabrication.”
I shook my head. “Over the last few weeks, she’s told me everything and I believe every word.
You haven’t been particularly good to her, have you?
Think about it, Doug. You really don’t care about what’s best for her.
All you care about are your own interests and you’re perfectly willing to use her when it suits you. ”
He fell silent, stunned, like the ground beneath him had shifted and he didn’t know where to step next. Satisfaction purred deep in my chest like an engine coming to life after years spent being worked on.
I was glad he was feeling whatever he was feeling. He fucking deserved it. I pushed off the desk, pacing once before turning back. “Gregory is not who you think he is.”
Douglas stiffened. “He’s from an excellent family. There have been some misunderstandings, but his father—”
“His father sent him out of England to keep him from embarrassing them further,” I snapped. “Alex told me the real story. Not the sanitized version, but the truth that Gregory has managed to hide behind charm and fancy suits.”
Douglas tried to interject, but I didn’t let him. “Do you know how many women he’s cornered exactly like this? How many people he’s manipulated? Backed into legal nightmares and contracts they didn’t want? Do you know how many families have paid him off quietly just to make him disappear?”
Douglas stared at me like I’d become the bane of his existence, but I went on.
“He was practically chased out of Great Britain, Doug. The man is radioactive. A blight on that family’s name.
He came here because his father realized Gregory was tearing through every resource and bit of reputation they had left and they wanted a fresh start for him. ”
Silence settled between us, thick, cold, and heavy, but I still wasn’t done. “He’s trying to claw his status back by sinking his hooks into the only thing that can give him a real foothold here, the Westwood fortune. Your daughter’s inheritance.”
Douglas leaned back hard in his chair, absorbing every word, but he still shook his head. “That’s not—”
I scoffed. “He approached you because he saw an opportunity with Charlotte. It’s not because he wants her or because he respects your family. Hell, he barely even knows her and the only thing he wants from your family is what you can offer him. Money. Legitimacy.”
Douglas swallowed. “I don’t believe that.”
“Then believe this,” I snapped. “Everything Gregory is doing right now, dragging lawyers into it, forcing the prenup, and insisting on rights he was never entitled to? Those aren’t the actions of a wounded suitor.
It’s a man executing a strategy he’s used before and you’re welcome to have your own people look into it.
Just be prepared for what they’ll find.”
I paused, letting the truth simmer between us while Douglas felt the weight of his own blindness. When he sighed, I finally spoke again.
“Charlotte deserves better,” I said, my voice quieter now but no less firm. “If you won’t stand up for her, I damn well will.”
He didn’t seem to have an immediate answer to that, just staring at me like he was seeing me for who I really was for the first time. “What do you want?”
“I’m not going to let the woman I love fall into that monster’s hands,” I said, my voice tight and controlled only because yelling would’ve given him the satisfaction of thinking he’d rattled me.
I locked eyes with my reluctant father-in-law.
“You can keep trying to stop me, and her, but I put a ring on her finger, and I’ll be dead and buried before I let anyone take it off.
Do your worst, but Charlotte is mine now, and I plan to keep it that way. ”
His expression finally faltered, offense flickering across his features first, but then confusion, and then something half-formed that might’ve been regret if he were a slightly better man. “If this is about her inheritance—”
“I don’t need it and neither does she.” My jaw clenched so hard, it hurt. “She has me. She doesn’t need a damn dime from that estate anymore. Keep it, for all I care. As long as you stay away from her while you hang onto it.”
I turned and stormed to the door, but my hand had just touched the knob when I paused. I found myself half-turning, throwing my final shot over my shoulder like a blade.
“She’s happy in Texas, you know.” My voice softened but only because I’d never been more honest. “She has horses now. A big house she wants to fill with kids and I’ll let her. I’ll let her have anything she wants, and she does. I told you I’d take care of her, and you still denied us both that.”
Douglas didn’t answer, but his gaze was on me, a contemplative expression crossing his features for the first time since all this had started. He hadn’t wanted me with her. I knew that damn well, but I also knew that somewhere deep inside, he did love her.
“What’s more important to you?” I asked quietly. “Having your daughter carry the Van Allen name, or the name of a man who actually loves her?”
The words hung in the quiet air of his office, heavy and impossible for him to avoid, but I didn’t wait for him to find something clever to say. I just left, shutting the door behind me but not slamming it. I’d wanted that soft click to echo with finality.
I walked down the steps of the Westwood mansion with long strides, pulling in breath after breath of air and realizing that I hated this place. A part of me always had. I probably always would.
The Big House in San Francisco was different. Harlan could also be an asshole, just like his brother, but CC always managed to smack some sense into him when it really mattered. Without Rochelle here to do the same for Douglas, this place just didn’t have any fucking soul.
For my wife and my friends’ sake, I really hoped that would change one day, but I wouldn’t count on it. My truck was parked at the bottom of the stairs and I climbed into it, deliberately tuning out the mansion as I put it in my rearview mirror.
Douglas could still make life hell for us. For her. But he’d have to get through me to do it and I wasn’t planning on letting him within fifty feet.
It wasn’t about pride but about keeping my wife safe. Keeping her whole. Keeping her mine. The road stretched ahead of me as I drove toward her and toward our future together.
A future that seemed complicated as hell right now but wouldn’t be once I got her away from here. Back in Texas, she and I were building a life together and I wanted to keep doing that, far away from the doubts and the bullshit this city always seemed to instill in both of us.
As soon as I’d handled the situation with Gregory, I was taking her back there and neither of us would set foot in Chicago again for a long, long time—and I didn’t give a shit what any of the Westwoods thought about it.