Chapter 25 #2
My mother's mouth opens and closes. She's said too much, and she knows it.
“That's right,” Ashland says, his voice deadly calm. “Have we been giving you money?”
“Answer the question,” I demand .
“Every month,” my mother spits out. “Fine. Guilt money, blood money for taking her father from her. I took it because it was the least they could do.”
“They've been supporting us.” I shake my head.
“All these years, when you said you were struggling. When you said we could barely afford groceries and lived in that crappy apartment. They were sending money to assuage their guilt. To take care of us,” I whisper.
“Because even though they were not responsible for Da's death, they still made sure his family was provided for. And you made them out to be the devils themselves.”
The pieces are falling into place now.
“The engagement to Marcus. You arranged it, didn't you? Not for my future or my safety.”
My mother's silence is answer enough.
“For revenge,” Erin says softly. “You arranged for Bianca to marry into the Crowning family because you wanted revenge on the McCarthys. That's one theory, anyway. But the truth is that it had a lot more to do with you wanting to be with Marcus Crowning Sr., didn’t it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” My mother shakes her head. “You're a liar. I only wanted what was best for you, Bianca.”
“Best for me?” I say. “You came here begging me to go back to a man who was trying to hurt me.”
“You're being dramatic again. ”
“Stop telling me I'm dramatic! Everything about me is wrong, isn't it? I'm too dramatic. I romanticize everything. I'm too—” I swallow the word. “Fat.”
“Bianca,” my mother says. But she no longer has the power to still me with one word. “This is all dramatics. Marcus wouldn't have killed you. You're too valuable to his family.”
“His dead girlfriends say otherwise,” Ashland growls. “And your welcome here is wearing very thin.”
“You used me.” I'm shaking now, anger and betrayal roaring in my chest. “Even now, you're here because he sent you, aren't you? You sold me to a killer for your own gain. You let me believe we were poor while you lived off the McCarthy money. You let me hate them for something they had nothing to do with.”
“I did what I had to…” My mother's voice breaks. “For justice.”
“Justice?” I laugh. It sounds harsh even to my own ears. “You call arranging your daughter's marriage to a murderer justice? You call selling your daughter to someone for your own gain?—”
“He loves me!” The words burst out of her, raw and desperate. “He's been courting me for months. Wants to marry me. Once you married Marcus, we would have been a family again.”
The room goes deadly silent.
“There it is,” Erin says quietly. “That's what I thought. ”
My mother's face crumples. “You don't understand. After your father died, I was so alone. For years, I’ve been alone. And then, Mr. Crowning started paying attention to me. Made me feel special again.”
“So you sold me to his murderous son,” I finish, hollow.
“It's not… it's not like that.”
“It's exactly like that.” Ashland's voice could cut stone. “You sacrificed your daughter for your own happiness. Even now, you want to deny the truth about who he is and what he would do.”
“I would never let anything happen to my daughter,” my mother says, but her theatrics are wearing thin.
“You arranged for her to marry a man who's killed.” Ashland flexes his hand on the table, and my mother flinches. “You knew what he was. You let him belittle her. You let him ridicule her. Don't stand there and pretend you're anything but selfish in your own desires.”
“How dare you?—”
“No. You raised me to be dutiful, to sacrifice for my family, to put others first, reminding me every damn day how much I owed you. And all along, you were the most selfish one in my life.”
“Bianca—”
“I have witnesses from the restaurant,” I say, my voice shaking.
“Bruises on my wrist and evidence that Marcus threatened to hurt me and tried to keep me from leaving. If he comes after me, if any of them come after me, I will testify in court, and I will tell them exactly what kind of man you tried to force me to marry.”
My mother's face goes white. “You would testify against him?”
“In a heartbeat. You made your choice,” I say quietly. “And it wasn't me.”
The words seem to echo in the silence. My mother's eyes narrow on me, and for the first time, I don't see a mother feigning love. I see calculation and resentment… disappointment that I didn't play along with her plan.
“You've changed,” she says, her words like an accusation. “They've turned you against me.”
“No.” I shake my head. “They helped me see the truth.”
Ashland's hand finds mine under the table and squeezes in reassurance.
My mother straightens, gathering her purse. “Fine. That's how you want it. Don't you come crying to me when this falls apart, Bianca White. Don't expect me to pick up the pieces.”
“It's time for you to leave.” We look up. Caitlin's standing in the doorway. “You're no longer welcome here.”
My mother's eyes flash, but she nods. “Gladly. I can't stand to be here another moment.”
She turns to leave and pauses at the door. “Your father would be so disappointed in you, Bianca. ”
The words are meant to cut, to make me feel small and guilty, as always. But this time, they don't work.
“My father would have been nothing but proud of me,” I say quietly.
“He worked for the McCarthys, and so will I.
Whatever it takes. I don't know what I have to offer them, but they are my family now.
They are. And you're a woman who tried to sell her daughter for her own gain.
I think I'll survive any disappointment from you .”
My mother's face twists with rage. But Declan is at her elbow—I don't even know when he came in—guiding her firmly toward the door. He’s big, like Ashland, strong and certain.
I hear the door close behind her and exhale. I feel something in my chest break open, and I pinch the bridge of my nose. I will not cry. Not here. Not now. Not again.
“I've got you,” Ashland murmurs in my ear. “You did so good. Such a brave girl.” His hand is gentle on my back. “You're safe now, love.”
Erin stands and comes to sit beside me. “You did the right thing.” Her voice is detached and pragmatic, but she places her hand a little awkwardly on mine and pats me reassuringly.
“I hope so,” I say with a sigh. “I hope so.”
Caitlin walks toward the stove and puts the kettle on. “You're family now, love. We're a family. The kind that protects each other. ”
I look up through welling tears at Erin, Ashland, and Caitlin. For the first time in my life, I think I might actually know what that means.
I'm still trying not to cry against Ashland's chest when Declan appears in the doorway, his face grim.
“Ash,” he says quietly.
“What’s the problem now?” Ashland's arms tighten around me protectively. “What is it?”
“Marcus Crowning's gone missing. Vanished as of this morning. Rumor has it he left his penthouse before dawn, didn't tell anyone where he was going. Some sources say he left the country.”
I can feel Ashland's entire body change—muscles coiling, his breathing slowing to that dangerous rhythm I've come to recognize.
“Missing,” he repeats, flat and cold, and it sends a shiver down my spine.
“Aye. Security footage shows him getting into a car alone after that. No credit card use, no phone pings, no sightings. He ran,” Declan says.
“He knows we're coming for him.”
“Maybe,” Declan says, his expression troubled. “Or maybe he's planning something. Going dark before he strikes.”
I swallow hard and pull back from Ashland's chest, wiping my eyes. “He doesn't lose. He's not a loser—he's the most competitive person I’ve known.” I clear my throat. “I don't really think he's left.”
Ashland's jaw is tight, his silver eyes almost black. “The bastard's sneaking and hiding.”
“Can we just wait him out?” I ask.
“Sneaking and hiding somewhere dangerous, where no one can see,” Ashland says quietly, his hand coming up to cup my face. “He's out there somewhere, planning his next move. Can't get to him if I don't know where the fuck he is.”
Declan shifts his weight. “I've got everyone watching—airports, train stations, borders. If he's still in the country, we'll find him.”
“And if he's not—” I start.
“We wait,” Ashland says, cutting me off. “We keep you safe, and we wait for him to surface.”
“We could bait him,” I suggest quietly.
“No.” Ashland grips me so tight it almost hurts. “You're not baiting him.”
The expression on his face and the tone of his voice leave no room for argument.
“Ashland, you have to?—”
“I said no . ”
The room goes completely still.
I blow out a breath. “Oh, you can't be so fucking stubborn about this.” Declan whistles under his breath.
“ Watch me.” His eyes hold mine, unyielding. I feel like we're on the verge of our first real fight.
“How long could it take, waiting him out?” I say, my hands on my hips.
“Days. Weeks. Months. However long it takes, I'm here. I'm not letting you out of my sight.”
“Listen to me, Ashland?—”
“No, you listen to me .” His voice drops to something deadly. “I will lock you up in that room and throw away the fucking key if I have to.”
“I'm not the only one hearing this,” I say, gesturing to Declan. “Right?”
Declan shrugs. “I'm on his side, lass.”
Even Erin goes quiet, and I realize I'm alone in this.
“Are you kidding me?” I say.
“Listen,” Declan says, moving toward the door. “We can have the security detail doubled around the property, make sure nobody gets in or out without us knowing.”
“Right,” Ashland says. “Declan, I want eyes on Francesca. If Marcus contacts her, if either of the Crownings contacts her, I want to know about it. ”
“Already on it,” Declan says. “The woman's phone is being tracked as we speak.”
The old me would have felt guilty about spying on my own mother, but after what just happened, I can't bring myself to care.
“Fine. I'll give you a week,” I say.
“You're not in charge of this,” Ashland says flatly.
“I think a week is a good amount of time,” Declan says with a shrug. “A man like him can't wait that long. If you don't see him by then—I think using Bianca as bait is a good idea.”
“I said no.” Ashland's voice is ice.
I lean forward, meeting his eyes. “I'm not the one you're in charge of, am I?” I say softly. “Just saying, Ashland—maybe I have a choice in this.”
“Fuck's sake,” he mutters, but his eyes meet mine, and I see the promise there, dark and absolute.
“We'll keep you safe until the bastard shows himself,” he says. “Then I'll finish what I should have done the moment he first looked at you.”
I should be horrified by the violence in his tone, but I'm not. Because this scarred, tattooed, dangerous man is the only one who's ever truly protected me.
“Fine,” I whisper. “I trust you. ”
His arms tighten around me. “You're safe with me. I promise that. Snake or no snake, he'll never fucking touch you again.”
Declan clears his throat. “Right then. I'll update Seamus, let him know we're on lockdown until further notice. And you won't be fighting?—”
Ashland's eyes cut to his. “You do that. And Declan, tell him to put the word out on the street. I want every one of our associates looking for Marcus Crowning. I want to know the moment he so much as breathes in our city. Understood?”
“Understood.”
Declan takes his leave with Erin, and then it's just the two of us. Soft light slants through the windows, peaceful and ordinary, but nothing feels ordinary anymore.
“He's going to come for me, isn't he?” I say quietly.
“Aye.” Ashland doesn't lie. “Eventually, he'll surface. Men like him always do. They can't help themselves. He’s likely plotting it now.”
“Will you be ready?”
“Already ready,” he says, reaching for me and tipping my chin up, forcing my gaze to his. “But until then, we live. We won't let him steal our time together by hiding in fear. Understood?”
“Aye,” I whisper .
“Good lass.” He kisses my forehead, gentle despite the violence I know he's capable of. “Come now, let's go upstairs and get some rest.”
“I don't think I can sleep.”
“I can hold you until you try.” Then his mouth twitches. “Or I can wear you out so thoroughly you face-plant on the mattress. Your choice.”
“Deal.”
He carries me upstairs, and by the time we're in the bedroom, I'm already exhausted. He tucks me into bed, then wraps himself around me, like a shield against the world.
Outside, Marcus is hiding. Plotting. Planning.
But here, with Ashland's arms around me, I'm safe.
For now, it has to be enough.