Chapter 38
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
GRIFFIN
Fucking hell. Julian Carter gave us his blessing.
The relief nearly knocked me sideways. Months of walking on eggshells, of Julian’s cold stares and thinly veiled threats, and now actual approval. He’d looked at Violet and me like we were exactly what he wanted.
One look at Violet’s pale face and my grin faltered. The elation curdled in my stomach, replaced by dread.
“Vi?” I crossed the room and kneeled in front of her. “Hey. What’s wrong?”
Her gaze finally snapped to mine, and the raw devastation there knocked the air from my lungs. She looked gutted. Hollowed out.
“He planned this,” she whispered, her voice flat, dead. “All of it.”
I frowned. “Planned what? You’re not making sense.”
“Us.” She gestured vaguely between us. “He wanted this to happen. He’s happy about it.”
I stared at her, completely lost. “Yeah, I heard. Isn’t that a good thing?”
For weeks, her father had been the storm cloud on our horizon. Now the sun was out, and she looked like she was waiting for the flood.
“No, it’s not.” Her hands twisted in her lap.
I couldn’t wrap my head around it. Julian was a controlling bastard, sure, but he’d seemed… proud.
“How could it be bad?”
“I can’t protect you from him.”
“Come off it.” I scoffed. “I don’t need you to protect me, gorgeous.”
She stared up at me, moisture glimmering in her eyes. “You have no idea how wrong you are.”
I’d survived six years under Julian’s thumb. Granted, the man was relentless, but I’d learned to navigate his temper, figured out when to bite my tongue.
None of that was comforting now. Looking at her face, seeing the tears threatening to spill, pressure built behind my sternum.
“Jesus, Vi, for weeks you’ve said he’s the only reason we can’t last. Now that obstacle is gone. Why doesn’t your face know that?”
I reached for her shoulder and she pulled away before I made contact.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It clearly does.”
What was I missing? I waited, hoping she’d fill in the gaps but she just continued staring at her hands.
“Talk to me.” I sank onto the sofa beside her. “Your dad just gave us the green light. We can stop hiding. We can actually be together. This is what we wanted, isn’t it?”
“What you wanted.”
“Don’t give me that. You wanted it too.” I wrapped my arm around her and picked up her hand. She let me take it, but it was limp in my grip. “You were just scared of what Julian would do. Now we don’t have to be scared anymore.”
She laughed, but the sound made me wince.
Nothing about this made sense. “Your dad’s approval means we can stop sneaking around. We can actually—”
“You don’t understand.” She shuffled away from me on the sofa, putting more distance between us. “His approval isn’t a blessing.”
“Are you allergic to good news, Carter? Or do you just get off on finding problems where there aren’t any?”
Her head snapped up, the devastation on her face sharpening into a hard, brittle mask. “Maybe,” she said, her voice dangerously low. “Or maybe I know that with my father, the victory party is just the setup for the crash.”
“Christ.” I scoffed, the sound harsh in the quiet room.
Frustration bled into every word. “Your dad finally stops being a prick to me, finally accepts that we’re together, and you’re acting like it’s the end of the world.
” I dragged a hand through my hair. “I don’t get it.
You two have this whole dynamic. You defer to him.
You do what he asks. Why is this different? ”
“This. Us?” She pulled her hand away and stood. “It’s over.”
She rushed into our bedroom while confusion slammed into me like a bad pit stop.
“The hell it is.”
I stalked into the bedroom just as she yanked her suitcase from the closet. She tossed it onto the bed and unzipped the case before moving to the dresser with a single-minded focus.
“Vi, stop.” My chest ached as I watched her open a drawer. “We’re not breaking up.”
“This isn’t a negotiation.” She grabbed a stack of clothes.
“Everything’s a negotiation.” I caught her wrist. “And this is one you’re going to lose.”
She jerked free. “You don’t get a say in this.”
“Like hell I don’t.” I stepped in front of her, blocking her path to the suitcase. “You’re panicking.”
“I’m being smart.”
“This is a tailspin, not a strategy.”
Her jaw shifted. “I’ve lived my entire life with Julian. I know what he’s really like, so if I tell you his happy mask is trouble for you, it’s fucking trouble.”
She shoved past me, dumping the clothes into the suitcase. I grabbed the t-shirt before she could move away, pulling it back out.
We had to leave for Mexico today. Logically, I knew she had to pack. Except she’d said we were over, so what if she were really packing to leave me?
My hands moved on autopilot, pulling out the next thing I could reach.
“Griffin! Stop it!”
“No, you stop.” I grabbed another pile of clothes and dumped them back in the drawer. “Your dad’s been threatening me since day one. This doesn’t change anything.”
“Yes, it does! He told me to keep you focused. That’s my job now.” She grabbed more clothes, scowling at me as I undid her work.
“So? You already help me stay focused. That’s not—”
“He had us watched.”
That stopped me. “What?”
“Dorian has been following us for who knows how long.”
I grabbed another pile of clothes and she shrieked, absolute frustration marring her beautiful face.
The sound tore through the suite. Frustrated and wild and completely unlike her. My hands locked around the clothes. She glared at me with her jaw locked and her eyes glassy.
“I will not live my life under Julian’s control.” Her hands shook as she snatched the clothes from me and threw them back into the suitcase. “If you’re fine with that, whatever, you do you. But I will not live my life pretending he doesn’t have one of his lackeys tailing us.”
“When?”
She whirled on me. “What?”
“When did Dorian follow us?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yeah, it does.” I crossed my arms. “Because if it was before I announced Hazel, then there’s no reason for him to keep tabs now.”
She shook her head. “You think this stops?”
“Why wouldn’t it?” I grabbed the suitcase, yanking it away from her. “Your dad got what he wanted. We’re together. He’s happy. Mission accomplished.”
“You’re an idiot.”
My brows shot up. “Excuse me?”
She stalked toward me, eyes blazing. “My control freak father will never stop watching. Never. That’s not how he operates.”
“You’re being—”
“Don’t.” She jabbed a finger at me. “Don’t tell me I’m paranoid or hysterical or any other word you’re about to throw at me.”
I held up both hands. “I was going to say cautious.”
“Bullshit.” She shoved past me, grabbing more clothes from the dresser.
“He blackmailed me into being your nanny. He’s spent my entire life threatening anything I show even an inch of interest in.
He had us followed. And now that he has me exactly where he wants me, you think things will just be fine? ”
Blackmail felt like too strong a word for what was Julian being Julian. Overbearing. Controlling. The kind of man who’d threaten my contract without losing sleep.
But would he actually threaten his own daughter?
I’d watched them together for years. He showed her off at events, bragged about her degrees, gave her whatever she wanted.
Whatever pressure he’d applied to get her here, it couldn’t have been that bad. She was starting a doctorate next year. She had a life of her own. Julian wouldn’t risk losing her over a babysitting job.
“So he pressured you.” I grabbed more clothes she’d packed, pulling them back out. “That’s just Julian being Julian.”
“Are you serious right now?” She wrenched them from my grip.
“Yeah.” I shoved them back in the drawer. “Your dad pushes everyone. That’s his management style. But now we’re together, and he’s got what he wanted. It’ll stop.”
Her laugh was sharp. Bitter. “You really believe that.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because you don’t know him like I do.” She moved past me, grabbing more clothes. “He will use me to control you.”
“Let him try.”
“Griffin—”
“No.” I blocked her path to the suitcase. “You’re making this bigger than it is. We’ll handle him.”
“I’m being realistic.”
“You’re catastrophizing.” I caught her shoulders. “We’ll deal with Julian together. Whatever he throws at us, we’ll handle it.”
“There is no together.” She pulled away. “Not anymore.”
I moved between her and the exit. “Sit down. We’re talking about this like adults.”
“Adults?” Her laugh was harsh. “You’ve spent the last twenty minutes dismissing everything I’ve said. That’s not a conversation, Griffin. That’s you telling me I’m wrong.”
“Because you are wrong about this.”
“See?” She threw her hands up. “That. Right there. You won’t even consider that I might know my own father better than you do.”
“I’ve worked for him for six years.”
“And I’ve been his daughter for twenty-six.” She stepped around me. “There’s a difference.”
Then she walked out, slamming the door behind her.