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Grimacing, he held it out to her. He was pleased his hand didn’t shake.
“You want me to decide?”
“It doesn’t affect only my life.”
“You need answers, for closure if nothing else.” She accepted the envelope, but still paused before ripping it open. Her hands were shaking, and she didn’t bother trying to hide that from him.
When she tried to hand it back, he shook his head. “Read it aloud for me.”
She drew it out as though it might explode. “Dear Seb,” she paused. It says here Seb instead of Sev. Is that you?”
Shock made his mouth drop open. His heart raced and heat flooded his cheeks. “They usually call me Severin in correspondence. That’s what they told people my name was, but it used to be Sebastien.”
Minnow bit her lip. “Are you sure you want me to read this?” Her eyes remained on his face, as though she didn’t want to be rude by scanning ahead.
“Do it.”
She drew a deep breath, bracing herself, then continued. “Dear Seb, I felt it important to inform you that after an extended and
mysterious illness, our mother is dead. One quarter of her assets will be sent to you via your man of accounts, Rodrigo Solis. It was not a bequest. All of her monies were left to me, but I thought it fitting to liquidate and divide her wealth between her primary victims – her children. May she rot in hell.” She paused and looked up, face white. “It’s signed ‘ton frère, Loïc.’”
That mother was dead too? Three for three. At least this one wasn’t a fucking loss. It didn’t even sound like she was a loss to a child she’d kept close.
Loïc. He had a fucking brother, and no one had ever told him. He’d signed the sale of this house to Severin, and he’d wondered who he was at the time.
He pushed back his chair and stood, taking the letter from her hand and reading it himself.
“He’d be younger than our sisters, unless he’d already been hidden away somewhere.” Was he older, younger? Were their sisters upset about their mother’s death? He read the line again ‘her primary victims.’ The girls had been abused too. A dim haze settled over him.
“Master, stop.” Her voice came from far away. “Severin! Stop!”
The girl was at the door. He wasn’t sure when she’d moved, but the dogs were gone, she was almost in the hallway, and his study was fucking trashed. He looked around at the destruction, bewildered.
A blackout? He hadn’t had a blackout since he was a little boy.
His chest was heaving, and he had the strong urge to leave the house – to get away from Minnow and the dogs before he hurt someone by accident.
“Miss Korsgaard, the number for my psychiatrist is next to the kitchen phone. Dr. Jindal. Call her and tell her I need her to make a house call.”
She stepped into the room instead, and Severin held up a staying hand. “No. Stay away from me until I’m sedated. I can’t trust myself.”
“Okay, Master, but I trust you.” Her voice was thin. Needy. But he couldn’t be there for her right now, and that pissed him off and shamed him.
“You shouldn’t trust me. Did you get the boys somewhere safe?”
“They ran for their room.”
“I didn’t hurt them, did I? I didn’t hurt you?” His hands tightened on the crumpled letter he still held in one hand, willing her to say no while he forced himself not to hug her and check her over.
“They’re fine. I’m fine.”
“It’s not fine. I’m so sorry – I haven’t had a blackout like that since I was young.”
She swallowed hard and nodded. “That letter was a huge shock. I’m not surprised this happened.”
His throat felt like it was on too tight. Like his emotions were strangling him.
“It could happen again. You should go to Rodrigo’s. Take the dogs.”
