Eight
Branwen
I followed Linc inside the room, and the two men who stood both looked to be in their fifties. Unlike Linc, they looked their age. One was even balding. The other had thick silver hair and glasses. If I hadn’t known Linc’s age, I would have thought he was early to mid-forties.
“Branwen, this is Garth Stanz and Matthew Hoyt,” Linc informed me as he walked past the men and straight to a bar, which appeared to be stocked with five different whiskeys.
Like the rest of the office, the bar was a dark wood, almost black. A rack with lowball glasses and a few short, odd-shaped, almost pear-like, glasses hung to the right of it while the left was a built-in humidor case. My eyes drifted over the room, and I stopped at the portrait of a black thoroughbred. I wondered if that horse had been his—or maybe still was. Obviously, it was important.
Behind his desk were tall windows with drapes that hung from the crown molding to the hardwood floor. A cylindrical chandelier, with the same bronze as the rest of the hardware, hung in the center of the room. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with just books. Nothing more. I had no idea if Linc was a reader or not. There was a lot I didn’t know about the man I had thought I loved for most of my life.
When Linc took his glass of whiskey to stand behind his desk, he motioned for me to take a seat as the two men sat back in the caramel-colored leather chairs. I glanced around and decided to sit in one of the same-styled chairs to the left of the black leather chesterfield, whereas they were seated to the right.
The room smelled of Linc. His distinctive scent that had stayed with me long after I left that hotel room in Vegas. Recently, I hadn’t been close enough to him again to get a whiff, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t inhaling more than necessary. It was addictive. I could dislike the man and appreciate the way he smelled.
I looked from Linc to his lawyers.
Linc was looking through some papers on his desk then stopped to read one. His jaw was rigid and whatever he was reading didn’t help matters.
“As you already know, the marriage certificate is legal.” Linc’s tone didn’t hide his annoyance about that fact.
Well, I didn’t want to be married to him either. It was why I had come here in the first place.
“I understand you want a divorce because you’re engaged to be married.”
His eyes, flickering to the three-carat ring on my hand, held a trace of disgust. I fought the urge to cover it. That was a silly reaction, but old habits died hard, I supposed. My desire to please this man was well past its expiration date.
“However…” he continued.
My already-straight posture grew rigid at that one word. I didn’t like it. Dread pooled in my stomach.
“We both have something we want here. You want to marry the dentist, and I want my daughter.”
If he were anyone else, I’d have balked at him knowing that Hudson was a dentist, but this was Linc. He had the world at his fingertips. I hadn’t prepared myself for it though. I should have. It was an invasion of privacy. He hadn’t gone back all the way in my past, or he would realize who I was.
The determined expression on his face was causing my throat to close and my heart to pound so loudly that I was sure they could all hear it. What did he mean about wanting Stevie? I had convinced myself he wouldn’t want her. Just like he hadn’t wanted her five years ago. I fought to inhale, and my hands trembled in my lap so hard that I had to clasp them together to stop it.
“What do you mean by that exactly?” My words sounded raspy, but without proper oxygen, it was difficult to speak.
He raised an eyebrow at me as he took a drink from his glass. Neither of the men to my right said a word. They’d been mute since I’d walked into the room, as if waiting until they were given permission to speak. He set his glass down slowly, not breaking eye contact with me. The room felt as if it were closing in on me, and I wondered if I was going to black out.
He couldn’t take my daughter from me. She was my world. My reason for living.
“It means that I missed four years of her life,” he stated. “I won’t miss any more. I realize she needs you. You’re her mother, and taking her from you would be devastating for her, even if it was every other week. Little girls need their mothers.”
I sucked in a deep breath as his words helped ebb the panic that had been overtaking me. Tears stung my eyes. I wanted to weep with relief.
His jaw clenched tightly, and his eyes darkened, as if my reaction angered him. “For me to sign the divorce papers, you will have to agree to move in here with Stevie for one year. I want the chance to build a relationship with her. I will be her father. She will know me as her father. Not some,” he snarled, “fucking dentist who golfs and plays tennis. She’s a Shephard.”
I shook my head. This wasn’t possible. How could he think that would work?
“Our lives are in Nashville. I have a job and an apartment there. Stevie just got accepted to the best preschool in the city—”
“I was robbed of four years of her life,” he interrupted me to repeat himself. “I won’t miss another goddamn day. My kid doesn’t belong in some fucking apartment, going to a preschool. She belongs here. With me, where I can give her a world that the dentist could never afford her.” Linc leaned back in his chair and nodded his head at the men beside me. “Now, you can agree to my generous offer, or I can win joint custody. Then, she will live here with me every other week, and we will alternate holidays. She will not be attending a preschool, and security will have to be placed with her at all times when she is not with me. Those are nonnegotiable, and if you fight me on it, you will lose.”
I’d never felt so helpless. He was taking all my plans for her away. Snatching them out from under me. Giving me no choice. Not really. If I stayed here, then Hudson would have to know all my lies. He would most likely call off the wedding. Take back his ring. Move on and find another woman to give that safe, perfect life to. But if I didn’t agree to this…then I’d be without Stevie half of the time. That was…that was impossible. I couldn’t do it.
“You s-said you d-didn’t want a kid. You said—”
“That was before. She exists, and that changes everything,” he interrupted me.
The fact that he had told me to take the morning-after pill no longer held any significance since he’d met her. Again, all my fault for bringing her here.
“You realize that this will change her entire life. Hudson won’t marry me. She won’t get the house with the white picket fence, the dog, the swing set in the backyard. All of that will be taken from her. You can get to know her and still allow us to continue the path we were on. Hudson is a good—”
“ Not her father. He’s weak. He can’t protect her. As for the house, she gets a mansion. Forget the fence. We have an iron gate. If she wants a dog, then I will buy her whatever breed she chooses. As for a swing set, there is a resort-worthy pool with a waterfall and slide out back. Hell, I’ll have a goddamn playhouse fit for royalty if that makes her happy.” He looked as if he was disgusted by the sight of me. “She is mine. I will give her the life she deserves.”
He wasn’t going to budge. Not even a little. I felt the world I’d worked so hard for being snatched away while I sat there, unable to salvage any of it. Doing what he demanded would destroy everything I had in Nashville. Friendships that had been built around my relationship with Hudson. My career. There would be nothing to go back to when the year was over. But he probably already knew that. Just like he never intended to allow me to take her back there. I’d be required to live in this town. He just wasn’t saying it.
“I won’t have a life to go back to when the year is over.”
He took a drink, and his eyes were that of a stormy sea. Both in color and the threatening glint in them. “That’s not my problem. This is your decision to make. I suggest you choose wisely.”
I gripped my hands together so tightly in my lap that the tips of my nails were going to break the skin. This was a scenario I hadn’t thought up. One I hadn’t worked through. I’d come in here, thinking he would request to see her on occasion. Possibly once a month. Even that much time away from her seemed horrible.
“I don’t have a choice,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “But you know that. You made sure of it.”
Placing his elbows on the desk, he leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he stared at me. “Tell me, Branwen, why is it you aren’t threatening to fight me in court?”
I blinked, confused at first. Was this a test and I’d failed? Did he think I had set this up and wanted the outcome he had given me? That I wanted to live in this house with him? I’d not once given him a reason to think that. I’d give anything to be allowed to leave here with my daughter and return to our lives in Nashville. It was safe. His life, albeit one with extravagant wealth, was not. I shook my head, not sure if I was understanding him correctly.
“You heard the question. You are accepting my threats without a real fight. I want to know why.”
I blinked and watched as he tilted his head to the side, studying me closely. There was a challenge there.
He was powerful and had too many people in his pocket at his disposal—that was it. I shouldn’t know that. He’d never told me what he did. Where his wealth had come from. If I hadn’t known, if I were any other female, one he’d only met that one night in Vegas, I would believe I could fight him in court and win. Money didn’t buy a judge’s decision. Power did.
I could lie, but why? He’d done a background check, yet he still wasn’t aware that our families were connected. That I was from his past. I had never been a stranger to him.
Lifting my chin, I met his glare. “I know who and what you are, Linc. I’m not stupid enough to fight a battle we both know I can’t win.”
His eyes widened slightly. He’d thought I’d set this entire thing into play to get the outcome he was handing me. Did he think I’d truly gone to all that trouble when I had a ring on my finger from another man? Was the fact that a woman would choose a man like Hudson over him that hard for him to believe? What a fucking ego.
No, Linc Shephard, I’m not trying to weasel my way into your life. All I wanted was to get you out of mine, and I’ve failed miserably.
“Who and what am I?” he drawled.
It wasn’t a secret that there was a Mafia that ruled the South. One where wealthy men controlled the hands and actions of those supposedly in charge. They were whispered about and feared. While the majority did not know who they were exactly, they had their guesses. Towns were owned by them. Senators, governors, mayors, judges were put into office by them.
Part of me wanted to blurt out who I was. See the realization hit him. Watch as he recalled the little girl who had worshipped him. The one he’d brought daisies to and placed in her hair, who he’d taught to play Texas Hold’em, the one he’d called Ringlets. But I wouldn’t. That was the past, and we weren’t those people anymore.
I licked my dry lips before replying, “You’re a member of the Southern Mafia.” Also known as the family among their ranks, but I didn’t say that. He’d have more questions if I said too much.
He leaned back in his chair, the expression on his face unreadable. “And you know this how?”
I would have to lie or tell the truth.
I chose to lie.
“You told me.”
His eyes darkened, and he blew out a breath. “Fucking opium,” he sighed, then shook his head, as if disgusted with himself. He reached for his whiskey. “I guess that saves me the trouble of telling you why our daughter will always require protection. With that knowledge, will you be living here with Stevie or choosing to fight me in court?”
As if that were ever an option.