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I cocked my head. “Does Stella know what you did to Catherine?”
He stared back at me. “She’ll understand.”
“So that’s a no. What do you think she’d do if she found out?”
“She doesn’t need to know. Kit and I will make amends, then I’ll introduce Stella to the baby, and everything will be fine.”
“The baby.” I huffed a laugh. “You don’t know her name, Liam. How are you going to introduce her to your fiancée?”
He closed his eyes and exhaled. “I’ll have things sorted by the time I cross that bridge.”
“Will you? Do you think Catherine’s really going to lie down and allow you to play happy families with her daughter?”
“She’s my daughter too. I have every right—”
“You don’t. You’re not on the birth certificate. She doesn’t share your surname. On top of that, you can’t exactly tell anyone you deserted a child, can you? Tom wouldn’t approve, and do you think he’d allow Stella to marry you if he disapproves?”
I swiped my hands together. “So, there goes your marriage. And what do you think Tom will do when he hears the largest investor in the waterfront project is pulling out?”
Liam’s mouth dropped open, and his brow pinched in confusion. Clearly, he hadn’t heard about the newest investor. His father probably hadn’t felt the need to keep his idiot son abreast of company business.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“I’m not only in Australia to see you. I flew in to sign some documents. As of yesterday, I am a thirty-percent stakeholder in the waterfront.”
He stared at me like he was trying to get a read on me. “You wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize your investment.”
I stared back, giving him nothing in return. “Wouldn’t I?”
Before looking into the van der Wycks, I hadn’t set my sights on Australia. But once I saw the waterfront plans, ideas churned. This project was a sound investment, and I got in early enough to be able to put my personal stamp on the construction and environmental impact.
However, I would let the money I invested burn to ashes if I needed to walk away. The fact that I was willing and able to lose millions without blinking was my trump card. I was certain Tom Bergerman and Edgar van der Wyck would not be as willing to lose a large portion of their fortunes if this project went down in flames.
“I urge you to think this through, Liam. Consider the widespread consequences if you choose to proceed with this line of thinking.”
His jaw was working now, grinding hard, and his hands were balled into fists. Whether he was angry at the thought of losing Josephine or pissed off at being backed into a corner, I couldn’t tell. Probably the latter since he’d shown no concern for her, even now. He hadn’t even asked her name.
He slowly opened his fists. “So, what am I supposed to do? Forget she exists?”
“No. I’m not saying that. If you want a relationship with her, you’ll do it on the terms Catherine lays out.”
“And those terms are…?”
“I don’t know. That isn’t my place. You’ll have to speak to her about that.” I dropped my foot to the ground, preparing to stand. We were almost done here. “But know this, Liam, if you set foot on US soil and try to stake some kind of claim on the baby, I will encourage Catherine to press charges against you. If you threaten her in any way, I will notify your future father-in-law of your past misdeeds and pull my investment from the waterfront faster than you can blink. Catherine is no longer alone, and she will not be taken advantage of ever again.”
His eyes narrowed. “You say speaking for her isn’t your place, so why are you here, mate? This isn’t the kind of thing a boss sticks his nose in.”
“You’re right, it isn’t.” I rose to my feet, tucking my hands in my pockets. “Catherine’s mine. If you choose to step up and build a relationship with her child, I’ll be there, always. Hope you like my face because you’ll be seeing it for eighteen years.” My brow winged. “Or not. That’s up to Catherine.”
Message delivered, I walked out of his office. It was time to go home to my girls.
Chapter Thirty-two
Catherine
Myheartwaslodgedin my throat as Elliot walked toward me. Forgetting I was holding a silly little sign with his name on it, I drank him in. Two weeks was far too long. Any tolerance I’d built up to his staggering presence had evaporated. Seeing him again made my knees weak.
He finally made it to me, dropping his bag at our feet. Knuckle underneath my jaw, he tipped my head back.
