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Her fake annoyance melts and the pain resurfaces. “I’m just not hungry.”
Dropping my fork, I push my chair back and open my arms. “Come here.” Her bottom lip trembles, and she comes to me with no other prompting. With her in my lap, I take her chin with two fingers and turn her to look at me. Let her see the honesty in my words. “Please, let me take care of everything. Let me help you fix the mess they’ve made for you.”
“You spoke to Gina?” I nod, and she wipes away the two tears that have fallen. “How much worse is it than what I heard? How much do I need to prepare myself to hear?”
“I’m sorry, Twirl. I really wish it wasn’t this way.”
“Not your fault.” London leans into me, forehead on mine. Her exhale is sweet and minty on my lips. “To be honest, Malcolm, you’ve done more for me than I can ever repay and—”
“I take care of what’s mine. End of.” Taking her bottom lip between my own, I suck on the tender flesh before releasing. “Your happiness is what I’m after. It’s what gains me entry into my heaven...it gives me you.”
“I’ve been so lost...scared.” My girl takes a deep breath then and lets it out slow. The heavy sigh makes my own chest ache for her. For the weight those two assfucks are placing on her head. “Deep down I’ve always known something was off. With the way Marcus treated Mom. With Alton’s sick fascination with me. That’s not love. That’s a mixture of hate and gaslighting—machismo at its finest. They just wanted us to be subservient and docile so they could do as they pleased.”
“You’re brilliant, sweetheart. I have no doubt that you’d be long gone by now.”
Her small fingers play with the bottom of my shirt, absentmindedly swiping her pinky across my lower abdomen. My reaction is automatic, muscles clenching beneath her touch. “Do you think we would’ve met otherwise?”
“Of that I have no doubt.”
“Yeah?” Her watery eyes lighten a bit, and a small grin curls at her lips.
“Yeah.” Lowering my hand to her ass, I pat the luscious flesh so she stands. “Now, let’s get you fed and caffeinated before we continue with this talk. And before you say you’re not hungry...humor me.”
“Do I have a choice?” I’m happy to see that even with the world she knew crumbling around her, my Twirl still has her sass. That she’s not pushing me away.
She’s hurting, and before the day is over, it’ll only get worse. Today I’m staying home to show her what they’ve done—stolen from her. She’ll learn that her father isn’t Marcus and that Alton is a depraved son of a bitch.
They both are.
To free her, I have no choice but to break her heart.
I don’t answer her. Instead, I pick her up by the waist and I stand us up, only to place her in my seat. There’s a small huff, maybe even a slap to my shoulder, but she doesn’t fight me when I prepare her coffee or when I place a plate of cheesy eggs and toast in front of her.
“Eat, and come to my office when you’re done. I got a few emails to look at.”
“Eye, captain.” Twirl even gives me a mock salute.
“So bratty.”
“You like it.”
“I love it.” The words slip, but I don’t take them back. I do love her mouthiness and playful nature. Her positive outlook and hunger to experience everything life has to offer. “Now, eat up. You have thirty minutes before I come looking for you.”
“How can they live with themselves?” London asks me thirty minutes later; the evidence I’ve given her so far lies on the floor where the folder landed after slipping through her fingers. She’s shaking, begging me to make it go away, but I can’t. I’m going to do what no one else had the decency to do, and tell her the truth. “My life has been nothing but a lie. One on top of another while the castle they built is now drowning me.”
“It was never your mother’s intention to hurt you, sweetheart, but she made bad decisions.” I bend down to gather the folder and its fallen contents before taking her hand and walking us to a small seating area inside my office. Waiting for her signal to continue isn’t easy when all I want to do is break those chains holding her down.
After a little while, London holds out her hand for the information again. “They’re not my family.”
Not a question. It’s a statement, and I nod beside her. “No. They aren’t.”
“Okay…” she swallows hard, lip trembling “…how do I find out who my biological—”
“Already done.” Pulling out the second sheet inside the file, I hand it to her. Just stay quiet as she reads every line with precision. I’ve seen the photos of her mother, and while they hold a resemblance, there’s also a deep connection to her father’s Italian roots. Her complexion, hair color, and even the slightly fuller lips come from his side of the family. His mother and sister were the same.
“Julian Conte,” Twirl says the name slowly, tilting her head to the side. Thinking, the deep furrow of her brows and the faraway look in her eyes tell me as much. “I’ve heard that name in passing all my life. Julian Conte.” Closing her eyes, she sits back against the cushions. Two tears fall, and she doesn’t wipe them away. “You know, most fights between them ended with his name being shouted out by Marcus, and all this time, I just thought it was some model or actor from their youth that Mom had the hots for and he was jealous of.”
London’s sad eyes open and land on mine. “How did you find all of this? Why?”
