Chapter 38
Daddy Issues
Laird
I take several deep breaths and let them out. I can’t help feeling uneasy, and a swarm of bad thoughts races through my head. My hands keep smoothing my tie or combing my hair. Hell, I can’t calm down.
This isn’t the first time my father goes this far. Using bodyguards to pick people up by force. Who the hell does he think he is?
I hate his methods. He’s called the shark of the legal world for a reason. This is how he operates: stalking, coercing, making people bend to his will until they’re crushed under Hugo Evans’ ambition.
He’s no better than a mob boss. And now he’s after Fenella. He flies from Boston to New York because of her. I just know it.
I have a pretty good idea what he wants from her. He wants to tell her to stay away, just like the girls I dated in university. Maybe he wants to grill her about the case involving me and Golden.
Whatever it is, I’m waiting for a call or a message from Fenella. I hope she tells me everything my father says or does to her.
The photocopy machine hums as I tighten my grip on my mug of lukewarm coffee. I stare blankly at the phone I’ve placed on top of the copier. Working half-heartedly is awful, but at least it distracts me from the mess in my head.
The phone rings. Dad. I take a deep breath. On the third ring, I pick it up.
“Hello.” My voice sounds strained, even though I try to hold myself together.
“Laird.” My father says my name.
“Yes, Dad.” I straighten my posture, bracing myself. I put down my mug, just in case I lose control during the call. No one wants coffee stains on the wall.
“I want you to break up with her, marry Lady Hawksmoor instead, and move to the London branch as soon as possible.”
“I’m sorry?” I furrow my brow at the string of orders.
“Do I hear a yes?”
“Are you nuts? Fuck no!” I wrinkle my nose and shout. Silence answers me. Did I just yell at him? That's new. There are beats of silence before a bewildered tone reverberate to my ear.
“Are you high on something?”
“No!” I snap back.
“Then why are you being difficult like this?” His breath comes loud and impatient.
I let out a long sigh. In my entire life, I’ve never said a harsh word to him or contradicted him. I’m always terrified of disappointing him or making him angry. Even worse, I’ve spent years keeping him afloat after Mom left.
It has become a habit he expects. But this time, he crosses the line. He pushes me closer to a decision I’ve been thinking about for a long time.
“What did you do to her?” I ask, rubbing my forehead, trying to take back my self-control.
“Nothing.”
“Please don’t lie to me, Dad.” I growl through clenched teeth.
Silence fills the line. I wait, listening. Only our breathing passes between us.
“I asked her to help me get you back on track, but she refused. So I had to ask her to stay away. She got angry, stood up, and left me with that rude attitude.”
Is he serious? I snort in frustration and chuckle dryly. I’ve had enough of his gaslighting for life. “You’re the one being rude to her.”
He scoffs. “Are you defending that girl?”
“Yes. I’m defending her.” There’s no hesitation in my words.
“But I’m your father. I raised you alone all these years.” His voice cracks, fishing for sympathy.
“Yes, but you can’t control me like a string puppet.” I squeeze my eyes shut and groan. God, I wish I could be good to him. I wish I could be whatever he wants me to be. But no, I’ll never be enough in his eyes.
“It’s for your own good. You should’ve learned from my success. You can’t take her side. She’s with that Golden jerk, and you know how much I despise him.”
“If I hadn’t helped capture Peter Morgan and his men, that guy would still be running around with his dirty money.” My voice is low, just like his seconds ago.
“You made the wrong move, son. You should’ve stood with me. Did you forget? You’re a lawyer at my firm, and you’re supposed to obey me. This is unethical.” His voice vibrates with anger, each word tight and clipped.
I fall silent. I blink a few times and try to process what he just said. Unethical?
“You don’t say...” My chest rumbles. My breath catches as the possibility sinks in. I gulp down to suppress my fear of what's comes next.
“We are the best lawyers in the state, and it’s only natural that Peter Morgan is our client. How could you miss this?” He hisses in that raspy voice of his.
My hand rubs the back of my neck. I pull in a long breath and hold it. Oh shit.
“Is this what I think it is? Are your hands on that money too?” My heart sinks as the truth clicks into place.
“Well, he’s our client and that money obviously comes from his operations, but who cares? The important thing is I defend him in my professional capacity as a lawyer. Nothing illegal with that.” He pauses for a second.
“Look, you should be on my side, assisting me in settling these charges. We can fight Malcolm Golden together. Don’t you hold a grudge against him for taking your mother?
” He inhales sharply, ready to unleash a speech he’s probably practiced in front of a mirror.
“Wake up. That man is the reason your mother left you. Left us. He’s a home wrecker. ”
I stay silent with one hand over my mouth.
My breath, rough a moment ago, starts to steady.
He keeps talking, circling his old wounds, his bitterness, his obsession with image, and that endless nonsense about how he wants me to succeed with someone of equal status and equal money, like it’s the only thing that matters.
“Laird? You still there?” He finally notices I stopped answering.
“Yes.”
“Then it’s settled. You go to London tomorrow. Bring back Lord Hawksmoor to assist us here. He knows those Irish well.” His tone turns commanding, like he thinks he’s royalty. As if any sane person would keep listening after everything he just said.
My jaw clenches. I hold out as long as I can. I take a deep breath. My eyes close, and I pray a little that God helps me hold my ground. I bite my bottom lip.
Come on. How hard can it be? I got a bullet in my stomach once. No threat scares me anymore. I press the record button. “No. I quit.”
“Pardon?” His voice jumps.
I let the silence stretch before I say it again, the decision I’ve carried for months. Something I should’ve done right after I graduated. “I quit.”
“What do you mean quit?” He stammers.
“I’ll send my resignation letter to Rebecca now.” My fingers grip my phone so tight. I hold back the raging breath in my chest, trying to steady myself. I can do this. Fenella deserves the best version of me, and the Laird Evans controlled by his father will not cut it.
He growls. “What the hell are you talking about? Don’t you dare.”
“It is what it is.” My voice stays firm.
“Laird!” He snaps. The fury in his voice crackles through the speaker. “If you do it, I’ll fire Rebecca for accepting your resignation letter.” He spits the threat like he enjoys dragging her into this. He’s always like that. Never changing. I snort.
“Yeah, you should’ve fired her a long time ago, Dad. She harassed every living person walking on this sick earth.”
“That’s a baseless accusation.” He tries to sound calm now, like he can still control this.
“No, it’s not. There were too many victims for it to be baseless. You knew about it, and you kept your damn mouth shut. Then you pressured her to behave toward me, but that didn’t fix how she treated everyone else. I’m done with your double standards.”
“Stop it. Keep going with this nonsense and I swear I’ll make your girl miserable. Her mother too. Her friend—”
“Sure.” I smirk. “And I’ll spread this recording as evidence to sue you for a lot of charges. Imagine the millions we can get out of you.”
His breath hitches, and another long silence stretches between us. He grunts on the other end, maybe steadying himself. “Listen, son—”
“No, you listen, Dad. I quit, and that’s final.”
I hang up. My steps move on their own toward my desk. I sit, open my email, and send the message to Rebecca with the resignation letter I’ve kept for way too long.
Finally, I’m free.
Without looking back, I walk out of the office.