“Ah,” she says softly. “Madeleine something…”
I laugh bitterly. I dated Madeleine Forester—the up and coming model and actress—about a year after Iris left me. The dots connect further.
“Right.” I nod, my chuckle still edging on rage. “So you saw me dating a model and thought…great. She wouldn’t interfere with the business. Her skills don’t transfer over. But when I started dating the brilliant economist, Cece, you only reluctantly agreed, huh?”
They both blanch at my thought process. And I know I’ve hit the right nerve. Because when Cecereallystarted working through the merger, possibly exposing their dirty secrets—that’s when their machinations started again. They really just hoped I’d marry a brainless woman.
God!
Gareth even hurt her. It’s a miracle he isn’t here. Otherwise I don’t think I would’ve been able to control my fist ramming into his face. The vision of him attacking my Cece is still vivid.
“You never really gave a shit about me, did you?” I say, my voice low, almost sorrowful. “You’ve been interfering with my life for more than ten years. Hell,all my fucking life. I’ve given everything to this empire—my time, my identity, mydamn peace of mind.I’ve played the part you needed me to play, walked every fucking line you drew, and still—still—I am nothing more than an asset to you. I’m not your son, am I?” I laugh bitterly, disbelieving. The kind of laugh that scrapes something raw on its way out. Thankfully, it also drowns their meek attempts to claim their nonexistent love for me.
Decades too late.
Because the truth is, I remember every way they molded me into the version of their perfect son. Apalatable heir. A curated legacy. And I let them. I let them sculpt me into someone I barely recognized, just so I could prove I was worthy of a presidency that they’re now trying to take away from me. Because they know I won’t follow theirtainted legacy.
All while they never even wanted to be parents. Even flawed ones.
“I loved Iris,” I bite out, my eyes boring into theirs. “And you took her away from me. You used your influence, yourthreats, and you dismantled the one thing in my life that was mine back then. So then I did everything you asked after that. I played the part. But it’s still not fucking good enough, is it?”
They’re still interfering with my Cece. But I can’t say that. I don’t want to give them any more ammunition than they already have. Because I know they will never stop. Now that they suspect I know about thewhyof their machinations—they can’t afford to.
My father’s silence isn’t just guilt, it’s calculation. It’s merciless redirection. It’s contingency planning. And now, I know he’s neck-deep in whatever shady shit he’s trying to keep buried under the Astor name.
He wants me out. This clause was their way of doing it without blood.
My mother’s voice cuts in, soft and uncertain. “Do you really think it would have lasted with that girl? Do you really believe something real could’ve come out of that relationship? She wasn’t one of us. She wasn’t… she…”
I blink at her, shocked at her audacity to still be clinging to this inanity. “I would’ve wanted to figure that out for myself,” I say, my voice tight. “I didn’t need your approval. I didn’t want a goddamn clauselike a noose around my neck. I wanted to find love…myself.”
And I did.But it still isn’t going the way they wanted, is it?
I feel the press of my phone in my pocket, of the message that confirmed it all. Sebastian’s text flashing in my mind.
Sebastian Blackthorn: File sent to your email. CSIS should be on it within a week. Expect arrests.
They’re going to burn for this. Foreverything.
“I’ll get that damn clause eradicated,” I say slowly, with conviction. “So no one—ever—has to suffer from this stupidity again.”
I won’t let this clause hover over anyone’s head. Not mine. Not Cece’s. And certainly not our children’s. She wouldn’t want this for us and I know it.
But first, I need to uncover every fucking way they weaved it into the system. How they sold it as generational. How they conned me.
I storm out of the room, chest heaving, blood pounding. I don’t look back.
And then I stop the second I push the doors open.
Cece is standing right here, her eyes lock on mine. My breath leaves me in a whoosh. Relief flooding every vein.
“God. Cece…” I take a step forward, instinctively reaching for her. Needing her. Anchored only by her right now. But she flinches and I freeze.
My frown deepens. “Baby?”
She’s shaking—subtly, but not with fear. With something that feels heavier. And my stomach sinksto the marble floor.
“I… I’ll help,” she whispers.
