33. Declan
Declan
L ily moves to Darcy’s side, her smile friendly. There’s a bittersweet ache in my chest, knowing the two of them had been close before the wedding, but I think this is the first time they’ve talked since.
My mother links our arms together, leading me away.
We stroll around the outside of the opulent ballroom, more than a few eyes following our path.
I’m not entirely sure what I expected when we came here tonight, having bought our seats well before everything with my father became public fodder, but everyone seems to be hiding behind polite smiles this evening, even as their curious eyes throw out silent questions.
I’m relieved for my mother, because she cares a little too much about what other people think. It was ingrained in her early on that she needed to project the perfect image, hiding away anything that might blemish it.
There was no hiding Donald, though, or what he’d done.
As we walk further away from Lily, my skin itches, every instinct telling me to go back to her. I look over my shoulder, catching sight of the bright color of her dress and finding her in an animated conversation with Darcy, her smile bright.
With a heavy exhale, I face forward, focusing fully on my mother, just as she tells me, “I’m glad to see you here with Lily. You seem…lighter.”
“We’re not together,” I remind her.
“I know, but it’s a chance.” She pauses, her brow creased in thought.
“It’s a step in the right direction. And being with her here tonight…
well, it sends a statement, doesn’t it? The gossip has been”—her nose scrunches in a delicate expression of distaste—“unkind. So, you being seen with the Fosters goes a long way in repairing some of that damage.”
I close my eyes, hating that she’s twisting this into some kind of public relations strategy. “Mom, that’s not why I’m doing this.”
She doesn’t seem to hear me, her eyes turning dreamy.
“It’s important that we show up as a united front right now, especially with the way you walked out of Nexus.
” A brittle pause as she touches on a subject we’ve been avoiding, then she carries on breezily, “And the way you and Lily walked in together like that, and with your tie…” She reaches up to pat it against my chest, a soft sigh escaping her.
“It was an eye-catching image. I imagine you’ll be all over the papers tomorrow. ”
“Mom,” I groan, running my free hand over my face, wishing she’d let this go, especially with so many prying eyes still locked on us as we loop the room.
That wish only grows on her next question. “Have you read the letter from your father?”
I curse inwardly, trying to batten down my rising annoyance. “I’m not talking about this now. Didn’t you agree it was our choice if we read it or not?”
Her mouth pinches at my tone. “I did, but I’m curious.” A weighty pause. “I know what he’s done, but he’s still your father.”
“Don’t remind me,” I mutter, making her narrow her eyes at me.
Before she can reprimand me, someone calls her name out from just ahead of us.
She looks over, her eyes widening almost imperceptibly, and then she smiles brightly, changing our course and heading towards an older gentleman in a black suit.
His hair is almost completely gray, and there’s a tidy mustache casting a shadow over his upper lip.
“Richard!” Mom greets happily. “How lovely to run into you!” She steps away from me, presenting her cheek for him to kiss.
“Isn’t it just?” he agrees easily, giving her a wide smile. “My late wife was a loyal supporter of the foundation, and I still find myself here every year. Not sure if it’s the memories, or just a routine habit now.”
My mother’s expression softens with sympathy. “What a lovely way to honor her memory, continuing to support the foundation and the children they help.” She turns to me. “Declan, this is Richard Vanderbilt. He’s the lead counsel on your father’s defense team. Richard, this is my eldest son, Declan.”
My spine stiffens, but I paste a pleasant smile onto my face, holding my hand out to him. “Pleasure to meet you.”
He grips my hand firmly. “I’ve been wanting to meet you.
” I pause, trying to read into his tone, but his expression is guileless.
“I’ve heard that you’re in the eye of this storm your family is facing.
” I shoot a look at my mother, but she’s focused on Richard, her smile not slipping an inch.
Before I can respond, he’s speaking again.
“I was hoping we’d run into each other at some point.
I wanted to see if you’d meet with me, just so I could pick your brains over your father’s case.
” He tilts his head to the side. “Your mother has been reluctant to give me your details and since you’re no longer at Nexus and unlisted, I wasn’t sure how to get hold of you. ”
I frown. “I’m not sure?—”
“Don’t worry,” he chuckles, placing his hands behind his back, keeping his stance casual and unthreatening.
His eyes are observant, casually assessing every twitch of my expression, making me feel like I’ve been put under a microscope.
“I’m not hoping to get you to testify. Somehow, I don’t think you’d help my winning streak. ”
At my side, Mom subtly digs her elbow into me, but I’m not sure whether I want to have anything to do with the man responsible for defending my father, and trying to keep him out of jail.
Before I can come up with a reasonable response, a couple appears at Richard’s side.
The woman, white-blond hair piled high on the top of her head, looks over at us curiously, her eyes such a light blue they remind me of ice.
She has one hand on her date’s arm, who has both hands tucked casually into the pockets of his slacks.
He’s looking out over the ballroom, expression bored, and I watch him with a frown, noting his dark hair and the shape of his jaw.
There’s something familiar about him, but I shake it off, focusing on the conversation at hand.
“Ah, just in time,” Richard is saying. “Abigail, Declan, this is my daughter, Samantha.” He touches the woman’s shoulder as she sends us a close-mouthed smile.
Mom tilts her head. “Samantha! Lovely to meet you. Your father has already told me so much about you, so it’s good to put a face to the stories.”
She lets out a soft, husky laugh, shooting Richard a chiding look. “Daddy’s always chatting me up, which puts a lot of pressure on me to live up to his impossible standard.”
Richard scoffs good-naturedly, watching her with affection. “I only tell the truth, Sam. You’re my only child. I’m allowed to dote on you.”
Samantha just shakes her head, turning to her date. “This is my friend, and date, Caleb Jamison.” He turns to face us fully, his expression impassive and eyes hard.
“Caleb is actually an associate in my firm,” Richard interjects. He looks at my mother, telling her, “He’ll be helping with Donald’s case.” At that, Caleb’s eyes sharpen, sending an assessing look over my mother before shifting his focus to me.
“Nice to meet you both,” he says smoothly. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other over the coming months.”
“How nice.” Mom’s eyes are bouncing between Caleb and Samantha. “And you two make a lovely couple.”
“Don’t they?” Richard agrees, sending a pointed look at his daughter, who scowls back playfully.
“Mom,” I murmur, ducking my head down to say quietly, “I’d like to get back to Lily and Darcy.”
“Of course,” she agrees easily, glancing around. “They’re probably wondering where we got off to. Richard, it was so good to see you.”
He returns her smile with a grin. “Yes, it was. Are we still on for a working lunch next week?” His eyes are fairly twinkling and, honestly, I can’t tell if I like the guy or not. “I’ve even triple checked that my assistant added you to my calendar.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” my mother says brightly. Samantha watches the exchange quietly, just as Caleb leans over and whispers something into her ear. She smiles up at him with a nod, and he presses a kiss to her cheek before striding away, melting into the crowd of people.
Unbothered by his associate’s disappearing act, Richard turns to me, flicking one bushy eyebrow up. “If you’re open to that meeting, just call my office. Your mother has my number.”
I nod shortly, tucking my mother’s hand back into the crook of my elbow, urging her away as she calls out a final goodbye to them. Once we’re several steps away, an image of Lily sitting in a bar, smiling at another man, flashes through my mind like a lightning strike.
Astoria .
The man I just met was the same one that spent several hours charming the shit out of my wife. I keep my eyes forward, refusing to look for him, gritting my teeth, keeping my focus on finding Lily and attaching myself to her side.
Mom doesn’t notice my aggravation, chattering my ear off about how great Richard has been so far. I make appropriate noises whenever she seems to need them, hunting the room for a glimpse of Lily or Darcy as we circle back around to where we’d left them.
I catch the glittery sparkle of Darcy’s outfit at the bar, where she’s ordering a drink. I reach her side and meet Darcy’s questioning eyes. “Where’s Lily?”
“She went to the bathroom. Was she supposed to ask for permission?” she snarks back at me.
I don’t take the bait. “Where’s the bathroom?” She points to a set of glass double doors towards the back of the ball, just as Mom grabs my arm.
“What’s the matter, Declan?” she asks, worried.
“Nothing,” I try to reassure her. “Probably nothing.” My heart thuds uncomfortably just as my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, finding a message.
Fifteen minutes.
Fuck. I flick my stare between them. “Have either of you seen the Huntingtons?” I ask quietly .
Mom shakes her head. “Elena and Darius? No.” Her mouth presses into a tight line. “We’re not exactly on speaking terms right now.”
“What about Silvia?” I ask impatiently.
Darcy shakes her head, even as Mom says, “No, I haven’t. You don’t think…? She wouldn’t approach Lily, would she? Even she wouldn’t…” Her eyes widen with horror. “Not here, of all places.”
“I wouldn’t be able to guess what Silvia would do at this point,” I say grimly, taking Darcy’s drink and swallowing it in one go, grimacing at the taste of vodka and lime. She grunts at me in annoyance, immediately turning to order another one.
“Declan,” Mom says, her tone reassuring. “We haven’t seen Silvia, and I’m sure Lily’s just fine.”
Fresh drink in hand, Darcy turns to face us. She goes to take a drink but freezes with her glass halfway to her mouth, eyes narrowed at something over my shoulder. “There’s Lily,” she announces quietly. “She’s talking to someone…” she trails off, eyes widening. “Oh. Shit.”
“What?” I bark out, whirling to face in the direction she’s looking. My eyes land on Lily almost immediately, finding her deep in conversation with an older lady. Behind Lily, three women are approaching, everything about them screaming trouble, and smack in the middle is Silvia.
“That answers that question,” Darcy says. “Can’t believe she’s doing this here, of all places.”
“Maybe she just wants to catch up,” my mother says uncomfortably, grimacing when Darcy and I both shoot her disbelieving looks.
I shake my head with a curse, already knowing I won’t be able to intercept them before they reach Lily. Still, I take a step to go to her when a hand grabs my sleeve, jerking me to a halt. I shoot a glare at Darcy. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Just…” she looks at Lily, then back at me. “Give it a minute.”
“I’m not just going to let that bitch rip strips off Lily,” I hiss in an enraged whisper. “Silvia has done enough to Lily, don’t you think?”
“Stop underestimating Lily,” Darcy demands impatiently. “She deserves better than that.”
I swallow thickly, because it’s a harsh truth and I know it. Our entire relationship I refused to trust her with the truth, worrying that she wouldn’t be able to handle it, or worse, that she’d leave me over the part I played in my father’s schemes.
I never put Silvia in her place, too worried over what she might take back to our fathers.
That was no longer a problem, so this was a chance to show Lily that she was my first—and only—priority.
Still, I shake my head, not understanding how standing back is going to show her anything.
“You want me to wait here and do nothing?”
“No.” She rolls her eyes. “Just give it a minute before rushing in to save the day.”
Mom’s watching us with wide eyes, hands fluttering nervously. “I don’t think now’s the time to make a scene,” she frets. “We have enough to worry about. Silvia wouldn’t?—”
“Mom,” I cut her off ruthlessly. “Silvia would, and she’s making the scene here. It’s just not going to be the scene she thinks it’ll be.”