Chapter 24
STERLING
I strode into the police station with one mission and one mission only—find Vincent Rhodes and personally state my case. All around me was the low buzz of voices. Phones ringing. The soft clatter of keyboards.
The scent of old paper, stale coffee, and the faint, metallic twang of cleaning solution wafted through the air, the lighting harsh and fluorescent and flickering occasionally. I ignored the other civilians sitting stiffly in the plastic waiting chairs, striding confidently toward the front desk.
Tomorrow was the day of the summer party, the event that would be serving as my and Laney’s first public outing as a married couple. Despite the fact that I’d asked her to invite her father, I’d decided to take matters into my own hands.
My wife was upset and I couldn’t have that, especially not on the eve of her introduction to society as Mrs. Westwood. Generally, I was a very private man, and over the years, even the press had come to respect that.
My brothers had to deal with the public speculation and the media feeding frenzies far more often than I did, and it suited me to a tee. When I’d been younger, reporters had hounded me. Especially back when I’d been the only one of the Westwood boys to have attained the age of majority.
They’d sent incessant requests, fishing expeditions disguised as interviews, speculating that my deliberate failure to respond meant that I was irresponsible, mysterious, or my personal favorite, an eccentric hermit.
When none of those things had offended me enough to urge me to publicly defend myself, they’d speculated about everything from my physical whereabouts—apparently I’d spent a couple years on a private island off the coast of Spain—to my sexual orientation, my relationship with my family, and so much more.
Eventually, when they’d realized that I was still in town, simply keeping my head down and working hard, some had labeled me as The Ice King. Others had drawn the conclusion that I was simply too snooty to speak to them and had decided to start calling me the Royal Prince Westwood.
By that point, Jameson had turned eighteen, and as soon as his exploits had started hitting the front pages, I was old news.
Of course, Callum had followed a few years later, and most recently, Harrison had started keeping them busy.
All of which had meant that it’d been a long time since I’d really had to deal with the press.
This weekend, however, was likely going to change all that. In a big way. For years, they’d done features on me professionally or photographed me from afar, but stepping out with a wife on my arm was going to bring them back out of the woodwork like dragons to a golden egg.
I was ready for it. This arrangement was always going to mean I was inviting the League of Leeches directly to my door. Laney, however, was going to need all the support she could get. If my coming here could help smooth things out with her father, then I was damn well at least going to try.
“Excuse me,” I said when I reached the front desk, waiting for a tired-looking officer to glance up at me. “Would you mind pointing me toward Detective Rhodes?”
The officer blinked, a flare of recognition sparking in his eyes, but he didn’t comment on my identity. “Of course, sir. Follow me.”
I hadn’t been expecting an escort, but I got one anyway, being led through the maze of messy desks and up and down several short sets of stairs before we reached his office.
A few officers gave me curious or questioning looks as I passed, but I ignored them all, zeroing in on Vincent sitting behind a desk so full of clutter, I could barely see his coffee mug.
The officer who had brought me here gave a sharp rap of his knuckles against Vincent’s door. “Excuse me, Detective Rhodes? Mr. Westwood is here to see you.”
Vincent looked up from a file at least as thick as my arm, his features dropping into a scowl. He didn’t look happy to see me, but he didn’t seem surprised either.
Leaning back in his chair, he sighed and waved for me to come in. “Thank you, Tim. I’ve got it from here.”
The younger guy nodded and hurried away, and I stepped into Vincent’s office, shutting the door with a decisive click behind me. I felt him watching me closely, hostility seeping from him like a toxic cloud. “Did you change your mind? Are you here to give my daughter back?”
“No.” I stood with my feet shoulder width apart, my hands loosely at my sides as I looked him right in the eye. “I’m not going to change my mind, nor do I view her as a possession or an object I can simply return.”
Vincent sighed, his gaze flickering back to his file. “In that case, I’ve got work to do. I would thank you for stopping by, but I didn’t invite you, so you can feel free to see yourself out.”
“In a minute.” I took a few steps forward, gripping the back of his threadbare visitor’s chair with my chin held high and my eyes still leveled directly on his.
“My intentions with your daughter are good. It’s about time we cleared that up.
I wouldn’t hurt her, sir. I respect her and I plan on taking good care of her. ”
“This arranged marriage thing is ludicrous,” he said, not pulling his punches in the slightest. “Honestly, I thought my Laney was smarter than this, but it looks like that Westwood charm works on just about everyone.”
“She’s torn to shreds about your disapproval,” I said point blank, ignoring his obvious dig at me.
“I just told you that I plan on taking good care of her, and that’s what I’m trying to do here.
I want to fix this. Whether or not our marriage was arranged, she is my wife and I won’t stand idly by when I know someone is hurting her. ”
“Oh, and I’m hurting her, am I?” He scoffed, his head shaking before he brought his gaze back to mine, laser focused and razor sharp. “I don’t trust you, Westwood. You have ulterior motives. I might not know yet what they are, but I will find out.”
“I have been entirely transparent with your daughter, sir.” Sort of, anyway, but she knew everything she needed to know. “Laney was given all the terms and all the relevant information, and she agreed of her own free will.”
“So, what was it, then? You couldn’t find some rich girl to give you a high-bred kid, huh? You thought someone middle class like Laney, someone down on their luck, would be easy pickings for whatever scheme you have going on? You’re a grown ass man, Sterling?—”
“Laney and I needed each other?—”
“For what?” He scoffed loudly and arched an eyebrow at me. “What could you possibly have to offer her? She’s so far out of your league, regardless of how much money you have or will ever have.”
I sighed and raked a hand through my hair. “Her business?—”
“Was fine,” he said as if that concluded the conversation, but it didn’t. Not by a long shot. I didn’t know what he thought about the state the company had been in, but he was wrong. Even Laney hadn’t realized the extent of it yet.
I shook my head at him. “Megan could have sold her shares to anyone, but she came to me because I’m the best. I did my job.
I’m still doing my job. Baby Blossom was going to fail and Laney knew it.
Maybe she didn’t want to admit it, but she knew she needed something to change if the business was going to survive.
I offered her a solution and she accepted. ”
“What else is on the line, son?” he asked slowly, taking a beat like he was transitioning back into the good cop in an interrogation. “Be honest with me. Did your daddy put you up to this?”
“I’m not here to argue.” This line of questioning and his apparent insistence that there was something sinister going on were getting on my nerves.
Since snapping at him wasn’t going to win me any points, I pulled a party invitation out of my inside pocket and tossed it on his cluttered desk.
“For your daughter’s sake, I hope you come.
You stonewalling her is truly making her miserable, and if she’s unhappy, I’m unhappy. ”
There was a shift behind Vincent’s eyes—or something close to it—that made me wonder if I was finally getting through to him. Deciding to give it one last shot, I made my feelings for her crystal clear.
“She’s my wife, sir. Regardless of what you might think of it, I’m taking care of her and I want her to be happy.”
Even if that means having to face off with her gruff, grumpy father.
I held his gaze for another beat. “Right now, the main source of her unhappiness isn’t me or the way in which we entered into our marriage.
It’s you, sir. I’m not asking you to like me or to take me at my word when I tell you that I don’t have any ulterior motives.
All I’m asking is that you support your daughter. ”
With that, I spun on my heels and marched out of the precinct.
I’d said my piece. If he didn’t accept it, then there was nothing more I could do at the moment.
I could hardly force the man to welcome me into their family.
My only other option was to give him time.
Unfortunately, it meant leaving my wife in limbo for the moment.
I sighed but headed to my office, feeling more pressure than I had in a while. It got worse when I walked into my office to find Jameson waiting in my office. At least he’d brought along a fresh cup of coffee for me, but he worked on a different floor.
He smirked when I sat down behind my desk, his hazel eyes sweeping across my face and torso like he was assessing me for injury.
“You know, when I realized you were late for once, I thought maybe you were getting lucky, but if you did, it must not have been any good. You’re strung tighter than a nun at a Magic Mike show. What’s going on?”
“I just came from a little chat with my new father-in-law,” I spat, realizing that I was about to vent.
I never vented, but this was my brother and I felt like I was going to implode if I didn’t get it off my chest. “The high and mighty prick is convinced that there’s more to my marriage with Laney.
His grudge against our family is so big, I’d need a fucking crane to lift him high enough to be able to see around it.
The guy refuses to listen to reason, and in the meantime, he’s hurting his daughter because he won’t speak to her about it, and I’m responsible for that.
Me. I hate that I’ve driven this wedge between them. ”
When I finally ran out of steam on perhaps the longest monologue that had ever come out of my mouth, Jameson slowly arched an eyebrow at me. “It sounds like you might actually like your wife, dude.”
My tie suddenly felt like it was on too tight. “I just want her to be happy, but Vincent looks at me like that’s a federal crime.”
“Sure, but have you considered why you want her to be happy?” he countered. “You’re my brother and I love you, but you don’t give a shit about anyone’s happiness.”
“That’s not true,” I objected immediately, but it really felt like my tie was choking me.
I reached for it, loosening it a little.
“What she’s doing for me, our marriage, our future child, it’s a lot.
It just feels like keeping her business open despite the risks of it failing anyway doesn’t seem like enough in comparison. ”
“You’d better be careful,” Jameson said as he stood up, the ever-present, know-it-all smirk back on his face.
“If you don’t watch yourself, you’re going to fall in love with this girl and live happily ever after.
God, can you imagine anything worse than that?
” He stood up, much too cheerful for the warning he’d just issued.
“I only dropped by this morning to check if you were still sane after your first week of marriage. I guess I have my answer. Enjoy your coffee.”
As he turned to get started on his own workday, I realized that one genuine warning deserved another. “You need to get serious about your own future, Jamie.”
“What?” He paused at my door, but he hadn’t opened it yet. “What are you talking about?”
“When I become CEO, you’ll move into a higher position yourself,” I said as he turned slowly to face me. “They’ll want to see you settled as well when the time comes.”
He just clicked his tongue and finally reached for the door handle. “I’ll see you at the party tomorrow. Don’t forget to take your blood pressure medicine. You kind of look like you’re about to have a stroke. Or a heart attack. Panic attack, perhaps.”
“I’m not on any blood pressure meds—” The door was already slamming shut behind him and I groaned, swiping a palm over my face and reaching for the coffee he’d brought.
For the rest of the day though, I was on edge. It felt like my carefully constructed life was descending into a mess of chaos and I didn’t do chaos.
I need a break. A weekend. Maybe a long one.
Before I’d even completed the thought, I had my landline in my hand and Claire’s voice was on the other end. “Mr. Westwood, sir?”
“Block out next Thursday and Friday,” I told her. “I’m taking my new wife to see her house in Napa and I won’t be tolerating any interruptions.”