Chapter 40
Ican’t get her out of my head. My poor Emily. She was just a kid. So damn young. She didn’t deserve any of this.
And he’s away again. He woke up very early this morning and left with Landon. Something is off lately, like he’s been preparing for something. But something like what? It’s killing me that I still can’t figure him out.
The house is deserted, as always. I’m in the kitchen, pretending it’s morning, drinking coffee and eating waffles. I guess I’m losing my mind.
“Do you like the marmalade?” Grayson asks me, pushing his thin glasses back into their place.
“Yes, it’s delicious. Eleanor may be a bit creepy, but it’s a great recipe.”
Oh my God, why did I say that?
To my surprise, he laughs.
“Eleanor can be a bit creepy indeed,” he agrees quietly, leaning toward me.
“At least she’s a good cook,” I continue.
“Thank you for the compliment.” He humbly lowers his head.
I raise a brow. “Compliment?”
“I taught her how to cook.”
“You what?” My eyes widen in surprise.
“The clementine marmalade is my recipe.”
“S—So you made this?”
“I did.”
A storm of emotions rushes through me. Cain doesn’t let Eleanor give us anything without her tasting it first from the pot, and I thought she was the only one who cooked in this place.
He never mentioned anything about Grayson.
For some reason, I’m not afraid of him. I don’t believe he wants to harm me—or Cain.
It’s not only that Cain trusts him, but I trust him as well. He loves Cain like a father does.
“My God, Grayson, is there anything you can’t do?”
He chuckles softly. “I can’t dance.”
Dance … it’s something I haven’t done in ages—actually dance. Alone, getting lost in the rhythm. But in a way, I don’t miss it much. At least, not yet. I suppose my days are now full of threats, blood, and roses. And in the weirdest way, I can’t complain at all.
“I can teach you,” I say without giving it a second thought.
“What? No, I’m too old for that,” he says, looking away. He’s adorable.
“I didn’t know there was an age limit for dancing.” I smile broadly, raising a brow. “Besides, you’re not old. You’re what? Fifty?”
“I’m fifty-eight, but you’re flattering me, Miss R??i?ková.” He beams.
He doesn’t look a day older than fifty. He has that fatherly expression plastered on his face all the time, and it makes me wonder … does he have any kids? I’m sure he’d be a great father.
“It’s Kate?ina; we’ve established that,” I attest with a grin.
“You’re right. I keep forgetting.”
He raises the coffee jar and offers me more. I extend my mug, and he pours my third cup of coffee for the day. Sweet Grayson; he drinks coffee with me, pretending I’m not weird.
“Do you have kids, Grayson?”
“Not in the way you think.” He sets the jar on the ebony kitchen table and takes a sip of his coffee.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not a father. Not the way I’d want to be. But I love Cain like a son,” he says quietly, his grassy eyes fixed on the table. “I’ve known him since the day he was born. I always tried to protect him from Wade and Atticus, but I knew my place.”
“What was your place?”
He exhales, raising his gaze to meet mine. “If I went against them, they’d kill me in a heartbeat, and then there would be no one to protect him.”
“His mother loved him.”
“Alice wasn’t enough. Wade made her weak, kept her drugged, and told everyone she was sick so he could take her money.” He sips. “My poor Alice,” he adds, his chin trembling.
Did he have feelings for her? What if he’s … no, that would be insane.
But I can’t shake the thought of his and Cain’s eye colors looking so similar.
“She suffered so much,” he continues, pushing his glasses back.
“They sound like monsters,” I mutter, thinking about the way Cain’s expression changes every time he talks about them.
“They were. Horrible. Filthy,” he says, clenching his jaw. It’s the first time I’ve see an expression other than calmness from him.
I click my tongue. “I guess all fathers are the same.”
“Did your father abuse you, too?” His eyes widen, clearly shocked at the possibility of something like that.
“Not exactly,” I mutter, fidgeting. This time, I’m the one who keeps her eyes low. “He … they treated me like I didn’t matter. I was just a burden to them, something they had to tolerate until I finally stopped needing anything.” I chuckle humorlessly. “Then I became an embarrassment.”
I feel my eyes burn from the tears I try to hold back. They don’t deserve more of them.
“You are the biggest embarrassment I’ve ever had to live with.” I repeat his words as the tear finally runs down my cheek. “And my mother was always apathetic. It was like she wasn’t even listening.”
“You’re not an embarrassment,” Grayson reassures me, cupping my hand in his.
“Tell them that. Never in my life was I genuinely happy. I never had someone to take care of me, to care for me. Until …”
“Cain.”
I look him in the eyes. “Cain is there. He listens. He loves me in his own wicked way, but he does.”
“So, you feel you owe him for taking you away from them?”
“On some level, yes. But then I saw his other side and realized that what he said was true.” He furrows his brows, waiting for my answer.
“We are the same. We’re both the unwanted child.
And I’ve often thought I need therapy for letting myself feel something for someone like him.
But through loving him, I’ve somehow learned to love myself as well. And I will always owe him for that.”
His expression lightens, and an honest smile appears on it, enhancing his wrinkles.
“Thank you, Kate?ina. Thank you for loving him.”
I cup his hand with mine. “Thank you for taking care of him all these years.”
He smiles broadly again. Then, he scoffs. “I swear, if I ever see your father in person, I’ll kill him for daring to say something like that to a treasure like you.”
“I’m sure that Cain will do it first,” I joke, causing both of us to laugh.
“Well, well, look at this cute father–daughter bonding,” Cain jeers, prowling into the kitchen, hands in his pants pockets. “Hands off, old man,” he adds calmly.
“You’re an asshole for leaving her alone for the whole day!” Grayson scolds him, pulling back.
“Excuse me?” Cain raises a brow.
“Mark my words, young man.” Grayson shakes a finger at Cain and stands, his gaze locked on him. “If you break her heart, I will kick your ass!”
I am in shock. I don’t know how to react—whether to laugh or gasp.
Grayson walks off, still playing the part of the strict parent. Cain looks at me, raises a brow, and shrugs his face in question.
“Is there something I need to know?”
Now I know what Grayson means to Cain. It doesn’t matter that he’s older than me or that he could be my father. He’s a man, and he shouldn’t be allowed next to me. But he doesn’t mind it, and that only proves how much he trusts him.
I shake my head. “Just some typical gossip between me and your butler,” I mock.
He strolls closer to me. “Gossip, I hear.” He grabs my waist, pulls me up, places me on the kitchen table, and slips between my legs. “May I know what the gossip was about?”
I raise my brows. “Tsk!”
Slowly, he glides his hand on my nape and grabs me firmly. “Come on. Please don’t make me torture him to find out. I happen to like the man.”
I chuckle. If Grayson had crossed a line with me, he’d already be dead.
Now it’s my time to test his limits.
“First, you’ll tell me where you have been,” I say decisively, my heart pounding in my ears.
His brows rise with a mild surprise. “Bossy, aren’t we?”
I smile lightly yet seductively. “Don’t tell me that you don’t like it.”
Slowly, his other hand grips my thigh and pulls me closer to him. “I like it more when you’re naked,” he whispers in my ear.
“Oh, you won’t get away with it.” He leans in closer and plants soft kisses on my neck, causing goosebumps all over my skin. “Come on. It’s simple.”
“I visited my cousin,” he mutters, his lips still trailing along my neck.
“Is he a Manson, too?”
“He’s an original Manson.”
“Is he a savage like you?” I joke, feeling his lips forming a smirk against my skin.
“Let’s say I am Tinkerbell compared to him.”
I let out a laugh. “You’re kidding me.”
“Nope.” He sucks my skin. “Your turn. What were you talking about with Grayson?”
“About you,” I mumble, slowly giving in to his touch.
“What about me, little rose?”
I let out a long breath, trying to find the courage to tell him the truth.
“Your mother. But mostly about my father.”
He pulls back, his gaze fixed on mine. “My mother?” His jaw twitches.
“Your past in general.”
“Why the fuck were you talking with Grayson about my past?”
He struggles to remain composed, but at this point, I don’t care. He has to learn how to listen.
“You need to let go.”
“Let go of what?” he growls, His brows narrow, and his forest-green eyes squint.
My eyes dart on the floor for a few seconds, as if it has the answer I’m looking for. But then, I realize that there’s no right way to say this.
“When was the last time you visited your mother’s grave?”
“What?” His voice spikes. “What the fuck does the past have to do with any of this?”
“You solved the cube you have been trying for years in just a few minutes. That means you’re ready to accept it and move on.”
“Hush!”
“Leaving some flowers on her grave might make you feel lighter,” I continue, ignoring the storm I’m fueling with every word.
“There’s nothing there,” he snaps, then draws a shaky breath. “Just bones and dirt. That’s all that’s fucking left.”
“Her soul found peace. Now it’s your soul’s turn.”
“Shut up!” he yells, stopping inches from my face. His breath hits me hard, pushing a few strands of hair back.
“You need to—”
“No, you need to shut your mouth when I’m asking you to!”
I lower my head, avoiding eye contact. He’s not ready to listen. He’s not ready to move on.
“Okay,” I whisper, barely able to hold his gaze.
He lets out a shaky exhale through his nostrils, his eyes dark from fury. Then, he pulls back and turns around.
“Go to your room,” he growls.
I don’t reply, but I do as he says. I hold my gaze on him as I walk away, and he does the same.
He’s still in pain, I know. All those demons have fed on him through all these years he tried to be strong, and now he’s left with nothing but fury and a void in his heart.
I wish he could see how much I want to help him. How much I genuinely care for him.