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And it had better not be Chelsea, or he was going to be guilty of suing his own mother.
Mrs. Cabral pulled her hand away from the manicurist and blew on them. “Nugget, we’re filming. This is going to have to wait—”
“It’s not going to wait. I need to know what the fuck you said to my wife.” His nostrils flared with anger, and it took everything Sebastian had not to launch himself at her and shake the truth out of her.
She paled. Looking away, she waved her hands at the cameras. “Stop filming. Stop. Let me up.” She detangled herself from the deep sofa and both Betty and the nail lady moved out of her way. Mrs. Cabral stood, straightened her white pantsuit, and then headed out of the living room area and waved for Sebastian to follow her. Still seething with rage, he did so.
Instead of heading for the kitchen, she headed into his father’s study and shut the doors behind them. “Listen, Nugget, I know you’re mad—”
“You cannot even begin to know how mad I am,” he said, voice hoarse. He crossed his arms over his chest. “What the hell did you say to my wife ?”
She gave him a cool look. “Did she not tell you? She’s not good for you, darling. Between encouraging your doodling and then this newest, I really don’t think—”
“I don’t give a shit what you think, Mother. I love her. I love her and I want her in my life. Now tell me what you’ve done before I lose my mind.”
“So she’s gone?”
“Left yesterday. Refused to tell me why. Says we’re done. I know you’re responsible. Now spit it out.”
“She’s not right for you, Nugget—”
He remained calm, even though he wanted to utterly lose his mind. “So help me, Mother, if you do not spit it out right now—”
“She has a sex tape,” his mother hissed. “An incredibly vulgar, awful sex tape.”
That . . . wasn’t what he’d expected to hear. “What are you talking about?”
“Your precious, sweet little bride had sex with some man on camera. She allowed him to do all kinds of nasty . . . things to her.” Her mouth pursed distastefully around the words. “Someone sent the footage to me to blackmail the Cabral family. They were going to release it unless I paid them an enormous amount of money. I took care of the situation and suggested she get out of your life so there’s no reason to blackmail.” She blew on her nails. “I see now that she’s a sensible girl after all. I—”
“Mother. Stop. Talking.” Sebastian had to walk away, or he was going to be sick. He paced around the room, his mind in utter agony.
It wasn’t a sex tape. He knew that. Someone had filmed her rape and was now trying to blackmail his family over it. It was utterly sickening. He wanted to vomit at the thought of that tape being out there, and someone threatening to release it.
And then he wanted to put his fist through a fucking wall. Someone had violated his Chelsea and taped it? And they were walking around free?
It’s not that I can’t tell you about it. It’s that I won’t.
He’d tried to make her talk about the worst moment in her life, and she’d been hurting too much to do so. And then he’d turned it around and made it about him. He’d been hurt that she wouldn’t share. Of course she wouldn’t fucking share. It was a damn nightmare.
He grabbed the sculpted centerpiece from the dining table and flung it against the wall. It shattered with a crash, raining glass down.
“Nugget! What on earth—”
“Damn it,” Sebastian seethed. “Do you know what you’ve done, Mother?” He pictured Chelsea, and her blank, shattered expression from the other day. He couldn’t imagine the agony she was going through.
She’d left because she’d wanted to protect him . The irony made him sick. Chelsea was the one needing protecting, and he’d brought her into a family that was determined to destroy her.
“I’ve been trying to save this family, that’s what I’ve done.” Her tone was defensive. “Whatever you may think of my actions—”
“That is a video of a crime,” Sebastian bit out. “Chelsea was drugged and raped three years ago and left in the garbage. She still has nightmares. And you fucking flung it in her face.”
Mrs. Cabral sucked in a breath. “What?”
He told her an abbreviated version of Chelsea’s story. Of her nightmares and inability to sleep with the lights off. He didn’t want to tell her, but the dawning horror on his mother’s face felt too good to not rub it in a bit more.
