42. Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Two
Dacre
I’ve already gotten numerous texts, calls, and screenshots of the forums as the shock wave of our news runs rampant around the university.
I make my way through the castle and to the culinary lounge.
I’ve pissed off enough people to make rubbing it in my face fun for them.
Tasting the consequences of my own actions is like swallowing a knife, and it feels as if it’s stuck in my throat as I brush my teeth and ready myself for the day.
When I spoke to my grandfather this morning, he instructed me to go to the culinary lounge immediately, and that was hours ago. By letting Emma sleep in and cooking her breakfast, the morning really got away from me, but he can wait.
He’s made me wait for years, serving, requiring loyalty, and always moving the finish line at the last second. Not anymore.
This time, I’m telling him how it’s going to be.
I’m not going through with the marriage. He’s leaving Emma and her family alone, and I’m leaving the culinary club board indefinitely.
I’ve already prepped some things for Florence.
“I need you to do something for me,” I said over the line.
“Did you just add me to a three-way call?” Florence snapped.
Daniel laughed. “Hey, Florence. How have you been?”
“Fuck you. Dacre, what is going on?”
“Both of you, be quiet. I have an issue, and I have a solution, but it requires all of us to be on the same page.”
“Is this about Emma?” Florence asked.
“Yeah, it’s about Emma.”
“I met her. She’s quite pretty.”
“No one’s talking to you, Daniel.”
“I need you both to listen to me. It’s really important.”
I told them everything. From the minute I met Emma to our trip to the family estate.
For the first time in my life, I was honest with my family because I’m out of options.
Daniel can help with Florence, keeping her safe from my grandfather.
Florence is hesitant to believe him, but I know my brother better than she does, and I’m willing to pay for his help with any favor he wants.
Despite not seeing my brother in years, I’ve never seen him so sincere.
I can’t do this alone. I have to have help.
We were close once, before my grandparents took us in. I don’t remember my parents, but I do faintly remember the bond I had with Daniel and John. Daniel was notorious for keeping secrets from our grandparents, a natural opponent to authority.
I don’t want to keep living without Emma in my life, and that, at least, my sister understands.
Marjorie is waiting with her hands calmly in front of her when I reach the culinary lounge.
She’s worked with my family for so many years.
I remember when her hair wasn’t gray, but a dark chocolate brown and the crow’s feet by her eyes were fine and smooth when she’d smile and help us all into the car.
“What are you doing here? I thought I was meeting my grandfather in his office.”
“Mr. Everhart requests your presence back at the estate. He told me to tell you that he had a late meeting.”
“Fine.”
She leads us to the secret way out of the lounge, out onto the lawn, where a limo is waiting.
As I slide into the seat, I think of sliding into a chair in front of my grandfather to tell him we don’t see eye to eye anymore. Younger Dacre would never have found the courage. I think I’ve always been afraid of his wrath.
She shuts the door behind me, and the partition is closed, leaving me with nothing to look at other than the velvet seats.
The car starts moving, and I settle back into the seat.
I thought I’d be more nervous. I’ve never stood up to my grandfather before, but finally I feel like I have the thing I was missing.
Purpose. I could choose to believe that being scent-matches with Emma was just a chance, but I think meeting her was more than chance or numbers.
We may not be linked mates, but our connection isn’t a blind chance.
Once I met her, there was never any way that I could have let her walk out of my life.
The limo shakes as we hit a bump. I check my watch. It’s been more than fifteen minutes, and we should be there by now. I attempt to roll down my window, but the locks are on.
I knock on the partition. Sometimes, the rain washes out the road to the estate.
“Marjorie, how much longer?”
The divider slides down, and a lump builds in my throat at the sight of Liam’s eyes reflecting back to me in the rearview mirror. Cold and lethal.
“We’re taking a nice drive, Mr. Everhart. You’ll see.”
Oh, fuck.
“Give me your phone.”