Chapter 20
“I’m here to claim what’s mine.”
Those words echoed in my head like a bad dream.
My father was here.
Their mother was back.
She was married to my father, and she was here to claim Dacre, Pres, and Sin.
What the hell did that even mean?
“I think it’s best if we take this discussion into the library,” came Byron’s firm voice from the landing at the top of the stairs, and my head jerked to stare up at him.
My mother was at his side, her talons gripping his arm. Her expression was neutral, which wasn’t hard when she’d had every cosmetic procedure known to man at this point, but I didn’t miss the fleeting flash of panic in her eyes.
I was willing to guess that she wasn’t afraid of my father; not the way I was, anyway.
Instead, her main fear was that the stain of our old life might tarnish her pristine and polished new one.
My father could reveal her secrets and show Byron who she really was.
Which was nothing like the primped future-Governor’s wife she was masquerading as now.
I’m sure the safety of her only daughter hadn’t even crossed her mind.
My father nodded once at Byron’s words, a ridiculous grin spreading across his face.
He was loving this. The sick bastard was getting a kick out of the chaos he was causing.
Byron and my mother descended the stairs, and Dacre’s hand brushed my lower back.
“Come on, Bambi.”
I nodded numbly, heading for the library with all three of my guys flanking me, and I was grateful for it. I needed them right now. Even though they had to be reeling as much I was from the revelation that my father and their mother were back, and… married?
I needed their closeness. Their dependability. Their protection.
I had no idea what my father’s plan was, but I knew without a doubt he had one. He hadn’t turned up here with Mona on his arm just to play surprise. There was more coming.
We gathered in the library, and I took a seat on one of the brown leather couches. Presley and Dacre sat on either side of me, and Sinclair stood behind us: a clear statement that whatever this was, we were facing it together. I took a deep breath of gratitude that I wasn’t alone in this.
My father strolled into the room, taking a seat on one of the large wing-backed leather chairs. He pulled Mona into his lap, and she let out a soft laugh, wrapping her arms around his neck and crossing her legs over the arm of the chair as though she’d never left.
I grimaced at the overt display of ownership from both of them.
So this wasn’t a new nuptial then.
Byron and my mother strolled into the room last, holding hands. Byron motioned for my mother to settle in the remaining high-backed chair, taking up a position at her side.
“I think it’s best we have this discussion in private, so we all understand what we’re dealing with.”
We’re dealing with a narcissistic sociopath, I wanted to scream at Byron. But I kept my mouth shut. Not only because Byron would merely send a cutting glance my way and continue talking, but because I was still afraid of my father.
Despite Byron being the one speaking, my father’s gaze was trained on me, as though he could sense my fear and relished it. He’d come here to torture me, I knew that without a doubt.
His attempts at abduction had failed him. I had the means and support now to escape him, I’d proven that. So like any good strategist, he’d changed tactics. And I had to give it to him, this latest one was bold.
Completely psychotic, but bold as all hell.
I did my best to appear completely unaffected by his presence and persistent eyes on me, but I must have failed.
Because a moment later Presley’s leg pressed against mine, a check-in and subtle show of reassurance.
He couldn’t overtly touch me while we were in this room with all four of our parents staring back at us, but he was offering me a small piece of comfort all the same.
I pressed my lips together, wanting to cry at the sweetness of it. I was completely overwhelmed right now, and the thought of being wrapped up in Presley’s strong arms was everything I wanted.
“What exactly are we dealing with?” Sinclair asked from behind me, and I jumped at the sound of his voice.
God, I was so on edge.
Dacre’s knee pressed in from the other side, and I sucked in a shaky breath, pulling myself together. I just had to get through this conversation. Then I could go back to my room and completely fall apart.
Mona beamed at Sinclair, pride in her eyes.
“Your mother and Dempsey’s father are indeed married.” Byron said, his disdain evident. “It’s been verified.”
Whether or not they were actually married seemed like the least of our problems right now, but clearly Byron’s priorities were still firmly fixed on his political aspirations and what this kind of scandal could mean for his campaign.
It was damn juicy, that’s for sure.
“Great,” Presley said sarcastically, and Mona gave him an admonishing look that somehow turned into an adoring one.
I glanced at Pres, who looked as confused as I felt by his mother’s sudden reappearance.
Sinclair and Dacre had told me how hard Presley had taken it when he’d been abandoned yet again by their mom.
The fact that she was back, so far behaving as though she’d never left, had to be making him feel some crazy big things right now.
I just prayed he didn’t try to solve them at the bottom of a bottle.
With the exception of that night by the pool after Byron had announced his photo op at Pres’s football game, he’d seemed to be healing. He’d been so good, only drinking moderate amounts and allowing Dacre, Sin, and I to keep an eye on him when we went to events.
His mother’s reappearance had the potential to derail all of it.
“Your mother,” Byron said, the inflection of his tone conveying just what he thought of her still being afforded that title. “Has returned to change the terms of our divorce.”
Mona’s expression hardened.
“So you’re here for money?” Dacre asked, staring at her like she was a stranger.
She shifted in my father’s lap, planting her feet on the floor. “No, sweetheart.”
Presley scoffed.
“Yes, I’m here to get what I’m owed. Your father inserted a loophole in our prenuptial agreement that meant he could steal millions from me. I didn’t have the means to fight it back then.” She snuggled against my father once more. “Now I do.”
My eyebrows shot up. My father was bankrolling her legal fight against Byron?
He didn’t have that kind of money. At least, he never used to. What the hell had changed that he’d suddenly come into so much cash?
He’d already sold me off to the Ivers family by forcing the marriage with Boston. What else could he have done to ingratiate himself into their family, their connections, and their wealth even further?
I froze, the blood draining from my body. My father, who had been watching me intently, smiled like the fucking cheshire cat as realization dawned on me.
Bile rose in my throat, and I pressed a hand to my mouth to help my swallow.
“You…” I started and stopped, words failing me.
I could feel Dacre, Sin, and Presley’s eyes on me, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at any of them.
The only way my father would suddenly come into a lot of money was if his criminal dealings had escalated. That would involve my father increasing his territory in Seattle, taking over trade routes and illegal businesses he had never been able to in the past.
And the only way he could do that was if he’d cemented my arranged marriage to the Ivers crime family.
Which meant… an heir.
“Me,” my father confirmed, throwing his head back with a laugh so maniacal that I physically recoiled. “I’ve come to ensure the union that will make me a very rich and powerful man.”
I pushed to my feet, ready to rush for the door, my body desperate to get away so I could fall apart.
“Sit down, Dempsey,” Byron commanded.
I went to protest, but one look at his expression told me there was no room for argument. Not unless I wanted to be handed over to my father without a second thought. If that were the happen, I’d be strapped to a bed and injected with Boston’s seed as soon as this meeting was over.
Would Boston agree to that though? I was nineteen-fucking-years old and in an arranged marriage. The concept of children had never crossed my mind. It wasn’t something I wanted right now. Maybe not ever. That’s how little I’d considered it.
Yet my father was here to ensure it happened.
Fuck.
Dropping back into my seat, I forced air in and out of my lungs in an effort to stem the overwhelming panic crushing my insides.
If I’d thought my father abducting me in Paris had been the worst of it, he’d just proven how much more diabolical he could be.
“I didn’t just come back for the money I’m owed,” Mona said, ignoring the obvious tension in the room, opting to plead her case with the sons she’d abandoned. “I came back because I missed you. I’m your mother and I love you. I won’t let him keep me away anymore.”
Byron’s eyes tensed at the corners at the accusation, but he didn’t rise to the bait.
Sinclair did though.
“Byron didn’t keep you away. You made that choice all on your own.”
Mona’s gaze locked with her eldest son over my head, a silent conversation passing between them. If I had to guess, I’d say Sinclair’s expression dared her to deny it. To lie to them again. He’d likely kept tabs on her.
“Regardless of why your mother has returned, the fact remains that she has, and we need to deal with it,” Byron said, reaching down to give my mother’s shoulder a squeeze.
She’d remained uncharacteristically silent throughout this entire conversation. She reached up to cover Byron’s hand with hers in a reassuring gesture.
A united front. Only theirs was allowed to be public, unlike my own.
“In order to limit the public fallout from this, some changes will be made,” Byron said, glancing at each of us.
From the hard edge to his expression, I knew a bomb was about to explode in this room.
One that would shatter me.
“My team believes it would be best if Mona and Antonio were to move in here. That way, we can give the appearance of a happy family.”
I let out a disbelieving breath, fear shuddering through me and stealing my air.
He expected me to live with my father again? The same man I had begged my mother to help me run from?
I was already struggling to sleep after the abduction he’d orchestrated. Being under the same roof again would ensure I never closed my eyes or found any kind of peace ever again.
“You’ve got to be joking,” Dacre said, staring at Byron like he’d lost his damn mind.
Presley shook his head. “Wow, this is desperate damage control, Byron, even for you.”
Mona frowned at Presley referring to his father by his first name.
Byron’s jaw ticked at the slight. “Thank you for your opinion, Presley. Despite your protests, this is happening.”
Terror filled me, and I wanted to scream until my throat was raw.
My father was moving in here.
My fucking father, the man who had used me and tortured me my entire childhood,
the one who had tried to abduct me, forced me into a marriage I didn’t want, threatened me and tortured me, and was now going to force me into creating a child for his own twisted gain was going to be living under the same roof as me.
I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t focus.
I wanted to slide onto the floor and curl up into a ball, praying this was nothing more than the worst fucking nightmare of my life.
Sinclair’s hand landed on my shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. A warning to keep it together for just a little longer.
I straightened, forcing deep breaths in and out of my body.
“Are we done here?” Dacre demanded for my sake.
Byron nodded once, and it was all the permission I needed. I pushed to my feet and rushed for the door, running through the halls of the house and up the stairs to my room, where I locked the door and let the sobs I’d been trying so desperately to hold back rack my entire body.
My nightmare was so far from over.
And now my tormentor was living under the same roof.