CHAPTER 26
NOW
DAPHNE
My dreams are interrupted by the ringing of my cell cutting out, only to restart again a second later. Digging through the covers, I’m somehow able to locate my phone in my sleep-ridden haze and swipe up to answer without even checking to see who it is.
“Hello?” I yawn, my face half muffled by my pillow.
“Daphne?!” My mother’s voice pierces my ear drum, the sound instantly jolting me awake.
“Mom?”
“Daphne, for God’s sake, turn on the light. I can’t see anything.”
I pull the phone from my ear, groaning when I realize the call I answered is actually a FaceTime. Well, too late to ignore her now. Reaching over, I flick on the bedside light and scoot up to sit against the headboard before positioning the phone in front of me. My mother’s face fills the main screen while my own takes up space in the bottom corner. I catch a glimpse of myself, wincing when I’m reminded of my current appearance.
Shit. The events of the day come rushing back to me, further confirmed when I glance around and am reminded I’m in Nicky’s room.
“So,” my mother snaps, calling my attention to her thoroughly annoyed expression, “that explains it. Why am I not surprised you are the cause of this mess?”
“Excuse me?”
“Lucian’s in the hospital. Did you know that, Daphne?”
My fingers tighten around the phone, heart seizing in my chest as I look to the empty spot in the bed beside me. Jesus, Nicky. Please tell me you didn’t.
“What happened?”
My mother’s face softens a smidge, clearly mistaking the concern in my voice for Luc. “He was beaten. Broken nose, fractured eye socket, concussion. He’s lucky to be alive.”
I swallow against the lump in my throat, hesitant to ask my next question in fear of what the answer will be. “Do they know who did it to him?”
My mother scoffs, her face sweeping back and forth with a disappointing shake of her head. “He’s claiming it was a mugging, but we both know that isn’t true. Don’t we?”
A wave of relief washes over me, though it’s a momentary comfort. My mother’s earlier accusations finally take root, allowing me to process the full weight of her words.
“What did you mean I caused this?”
“Please.” She snorts. “Whose room are you in right now, Daphne?” Her brow arches to emphasize her pointed stare. “What did you think was going to happen when you ran to him looking like that? This is on your hands, darling daughter.”
“Do you see my face? He hit me, Mom! What did you expect me to do?”
“Maybe if you acted in an acceptable manner, you wouldn’t get hit.”
My mouth goes slack as I’m struck with a flood of emotions all at once. Sadness, anger, pain, guilt, shame—they all bleed into one as the one woman who is supposed to love and protect me above all else casts blame upon me for seeking solace in the wake of my abuse.
“Whatever you have going on with that boy stops now. I mean it, Daphne. I have entertained this nonsense far longer than I should have. I expect you at the hospital as soon as you’re able to make yourself presentable, supporting your fiancé in his recovery.”
I’m shaking my head before she’s even finished her demands. “I’m not going back to him.”
“You will,” she asserts. “Or you will be cut off. And then what are your other options, hmm? Stay with Daniel Conners? I hate to be the one to tell you this, but he doesn’t want you. It’s time you woke up and realized that. Lord knows the way you’ve thrown yourself at him over the years, the man’s had more than enough opportunities to claim you if he did.”
I look off to the side, fighting against the fresh sting of tears pricking at the backs of my eyes in my refusal to let her see me cry. I hate her. I hate how she always knows exactly where to stick the knife to cut me deepest, only to take pride in the resulting hemorrhaging of my heart.
“I don’t need a man.” I sniffle, swiping at my cheeks even though the tears have yet to fall. “Or you or Dad, for that matter. Graduation’s just around the corner. I have some savings. I’m more than capable of starting life on my own, Mother.”
“Listen to me, you ungrateful little wench,” she seethes, her voice dripping with disdain. “You will get up, you will fix your face, and you will be at the hospital within the hour. Or, so help me God, I will personally see to it that Daniel Conners is in police custody by the end of the month.”
I gruff out a laugh. “You’re delusional if you think you have the ability to do such a thing.”
“Am I?” The self-assured smile that slips into place sends an icy chill racing through my veins, saddling me with a sense of unease. “How do you think Elliot Devoreaux will react to finding out his future daughter-in-law embarrassed his family by screwing one of his clients? Can’t imagine he’d take that lightly. Between his access to Daniel’s finances and your father’s contacts at the commissioner’s office, I’m sure they could uncover some highly incriminating material.”
“I don’t know what you’re implying.” A nervous twinge skates down my spine, coiling around my midsection to settle deep in my stomach.
“You know exactly what I’m implying, Daphne. But in case you need it spelled out for you, hear me now. You will go home to your fiancé, or I will have your father and Elliot bury Daniel. I don’t care if they have to fabricate each and every allegation against him. By the time they are done, the DA won’t even have to build a case. It will be delivered to him on a silver platter. And, just for good measure, I will make sure your father pays off every politician, juror, and judge to ensure that boy never sees the light of day again.”
“You don’t have enough money to pull that off.” She couldn’t possibly. Nicky’s easily worth ten times what my parents are. He could double, even triple any bribes they attempt to issue.
My mother’s face remains neutral, seemingly unaffected by my claims. “The sacrifice of one’s morality doesn’t cost nearly as much as you’d think. Not to mention, you’re severely underestimating the number of people who would be all too eager to witness that boy’s downfall. It’s probably difficult for someone as enamored with them as you, but not everyone believes the Conners family walks on water.”
“And just who would those people be, Mother?” I snap, knowing exactly the type of people she’s talking about. “The middle-aged businessmen who’ve spent their lackluster careers not working half as hard as Mitch, but then are somehow pissed he’s twice as successful? The self-absorbed housewives that are still jealous how some woman who didn’t have two pennies to rub together managed to be the one to steal his heart? Or maybe it’s the boys like Luc, who navigate life riding off the coattails of their parents’ accomplishments and wealth, while forced to stand in the shadow of men like Nick who have amassed an empire to call their own.” I know these people well. I’ve been surrounded by them my entire life. They are petty, ugly, and cruel… but they do exist.
My outburst does little to rattle my mother, who simply shrugs in response. “Motive is of no concern to me. All that matters is there’s no shortage of individuals willing to aid me in my cause.”
“I don’t believe you.” I force out the words, hoping if I say them with enough conviction, I can convince myself they’re true.
“Then you have nothing to worry about. Do you? I’ll give you until tomorrow morning to decide. If you believe my threats are empty, then take your chances, Daphne. We’ll see who comes out on top.”
The screen goes dark, leaving me alone to contemplate my options. She’s bluffing, I tell myself, attempting to ease my nerves. She has to be. Nicky didn’t get as far as he did in life by leaving himself at the mercy of others. I’ve seen his brilliance in action firsthand. In the way he governs his organization. In the way he orchestrates those around him. Nicky’s a king. And kings cannot be overthrown by pawns such as Belinda Burke.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?!” Rico booms from somewhere in the distance, snapping me to attention.
“Keep your voice down!” Nick hushes, his command dropping the conversation to a level I’m barely able to make out.
Arching my neck to the side, I strain to listen in on the disagreement unfolding downstairs, though grow frustrated when I’m only catching every fourth or fifth word. Slipping from the warmth of his bed, I tip toe from the room, down the hall to the top of the stairs. Pausing just shy of the corner so I remain out of view, I lower myself to the floor where their voices now rise to meet me.
“Nick.” It’s JP who speaks this time, though his words hold no hints of his typically playful tone. “I spoke to our contacts at the hospital. They said Lucian’s face looks like a bag of ground beef. What did you do?”
“I did what had to be done.” His explanation comes out flat, devoid of any emotion.
“Bullshit,” Rico spits, the loud clanging sound that follows suggesting he’s thrown something across the room.
“Yo!” Nick snaps. “I told you to be quiet. She’s asleep.” He pauses for a brief second, his tone softer when his words resume. “You didn’t see her face, JP. He’s lucky I didn’t kill him.”
“I saw her face,” Rico interjects, “and that is exactly why I was so hesitant to let you see her when she showed up here tonight. I knew you couldn’t handle it.”
“Fuck you, Rico.” The sounds of a muffled scuffle ensue, culminating with a series of grunts before JP can be heard scolding them both.
“Enough! What the fuck is the matter with you two? Seriously? I’m the voice of reason now?”
“Get off me,” Nicky huffs, a brief silence descending over them once more. The tension in the air continues to grow thick, its discomfort easily detected even all the way up here. “First off,” Nick continues, “you don’t let me do shit. I am head of this family, and it would serve you well to remember that. Second, the fact that you saw the damage he did and are still able to stand here and lecture me over the punishment I doled out has me really fucking concerned where your head is at.”
“You think I didn’t want to slaughter him the second she stepped through our door?!” Rico somewhat shouts. He must either catch himself, or receive another warning from Nicky, because when he speaks again, his words are hushed. “I’ve known Daph almost as long as you, Nick. She is like a sister to me. But I also understand the sensitive situation we’re in. There’s a reason we use Elliot Devoreaux to oversee our finances. He’s the best at what he does.”
My chest tightens as Rico’s warning echoes my mother’s.
“And he gets paid handsomely for his discretion,” Nicky calmly replies. “He has no hard evidence about the inner workings of the business.”
“He sure as shit knows the money we rake in isn’t the result of investments alone. And, let’s be honest, we aren’t fresh out of high school anymore. Those whispers about us are taken a lot more seriously today than they were seven years ago. You couple that with the components of Mav’s operation he has a hand in and the federal agencies currently breathing down our necks, it wouldn’t take much for him to start problems should he feel inclined to do so. Safe to say, rearranging his son’s face may have him feeling a certain type of way.”
Two words take root in my brain. Federal agencies. Shit, are they being investigated? That’s not possible. Nicky’s supposed to be untouchable. He’s always two steps ahead. Is my mother right? Have I really been so enamored with the image of Nicky I’ve built in my brain that I’ve failed to notice the real-life consequences that accompany a life such as his?
“I don’t understand you, Rico. All my life, you’ve pushed me to behave more human. To let my emotions in. I didn’t see you reeling me in when we tracked down those fuckers who hurt J.”
A chill shudders through me at the memory of Jonsie in the hospital after the rape. I blamed myself for years, some of the guilt still residing somewhere deep inside me. I was supposed to be with her that night, but my mother forced me to attend some dinner party with her and my father at the home of one of his business associates last-minute. It was one of the random times they needed to paint the picture that we were somehow the quintessential American family. I agreed to go because I didn’t have it in me to fight her that night.
I should’ve fought. If I’d threatened to misbehave, they wouldn’t have risked taking me. Dad ignores me like it’s an Olympic sport, so adding one more disappointment to my resume wouldn’t have fazed our relationship. Sure, I would’ve had to swallow my mother’s shit for a few weeks after, but Jonsie wouldn’t have been alone that night. I could’ve kept her safe.
“We did that quietly, Nick. You didn’t string them up in the town square and teach an intro class on torture tactics. Had you tried, I would’ve intervened.”
“Nobody’s saying Devoreaux didn’t deserve what you did to him, bro,” JP hops in, attempting to mediate. “Between you and me? I hope you made it hurt. But you gotta remember what you’ve always told us. Rash decisions will get you killed in this business.”
“I don’t understand how the two of you are able to discuss this so calmly as she’s upstairs with half her face painted purple.”
“Because we’re not in love with her, Nick.” The silence that stretches on following Rico’s statement is deafening beyond compare. The air catches in my lungs, the action threatening to suffocate me as I forget how to physically draw a breath.
Does he mean me? He couldn’t possibly mean me, could he?
“I’m not in love with Daphne.” Nicky’s response is like a kick to the gut, stomping out any seeds of hope Rico’s words had attempted to plant.
“You sure about that?” Rico doubles down, and though every cell in my body screams for me to flee so I’m not subjected to another blow, I find myself rooted in place, my heart heavy with anticipation.
“Listen, it’s no secret I care for her.” Butterflies erupt in my stomach as I wait for him to go on. “She’s J’s best friend. And I guess it just always bothered me how she got dealt such a shitty hand at life. If I can do something to make it a bit easier, then I feel that’s the least I owe her for her years of loyalty and friendship to my sister. But that’s the extent of it. I don’t love Daphne Burke.” Nicky’s words cinch around my heart like a fist. “I pity her.” And those last three just ripped it from my chest.
I’ve heard enough.
I quietly make my way back to his room, where I quickly locate my phone and sneakers. It’s just after one in the morning. Visiting hours won’t even begin at the hospital until at least eight. That gives me more than enough time to get home and get some rest before I need to be presentable. Maybe if I ice my face, I can get the majority of the swelling down. Between that and my full-coverage foundation, it shouldn’t give me too much of a hassle.
“What are you doing?” Nicky’s words draw my attention to where he’s positioned in the doorway.
He eyes me curiously, gaze zeroed in on my shoes I’m finishing tying as he slowly advances into the room. With each approaching step, I’m able to make out the details documenting the night’s events.
The small split at his eyebrow from where he must’ve hit his head.
The splatters of blood that speckle his pinstripe collared button-down.
All evidence that could be used against him.
Lucian’s claiming a mugging now, but that could change on a whim. At least if I go back, I can ensure his story remains the same. I’ll make it a condition of my return. He’d go along with it to save face.
“I’m going home.” I rise to stand, pulling my hair from the confines of my messy bun and letting it fall down my back as I finger comb the tangled strands.
“What do you mean?” He huffs out a weary chortle, the smile he’s bearing more one of confusion than anything else. “Why would you go to your parents’ house?”
“Not my parents’ house, Nick.” I make my way to the side of his bed, quickly straightening the covers before scooping my keys from the nightstand. “Home. To my apartment.”
I spin toward the door, only to collide with the six-foot-four wall of lean, but solid, muscle that is his body. Nicky’s palms grip hold of my shoulders, preventing my retreat.
“Let me go, Nicky.” I stare straight on into the center of his chest, refusing to glance up at him.
“No. You’re talking crazy. Do you hear yourself? You’re not going back there.”
“Ni—”
“NO!” He shouts, his grip tightening as he gives me a desperate shake. My hands fly up to steady myself, grasping hold of his elbows while my eyes shoot up to his. “Don’t do this, demon. Please don’t do this,” he pleads with me, each and every word working overtime to weaken my resolve.
His bright blue eyes peer down at me with heavy sadness, as though I’m the one betraying him. Like he didn’t have to step over the pieces of my heart discarded on his hallway floor on his way in. I don’t even bother to collect them anymore, the shards of his collateral damage far too fine to retrieve.
“What would you have me do, Nick? Hmm? I have a life. I have responsibilities. I can’t just throw them away over a stupid fight.”
“A stupid fight? Look at your face!” He spins me, pinning my back to his front as he forces me to stand before the oversized mounted mirror on the wall opposite his bed. Its decorative gold border frames our form, capturing the image of us within—a living snapshot of the trainwreck that is our story. He leans down, his forehead pressing to my temple as he whispers against my skin. “Don’t go.”