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Zaria smiles at Jarred who seems perturbed that she’s here. “I think you need to see this,” Jarred says, without greeting her, and sets a folder on my desk. It’s thick. When I pick it up, I glance at him, but there’s not a hint of what’s in there for me to find.
Sighing, I flick open the cover and find police reports, agreements, and photos, profiling the newlywed couple. The images I find are different to those that were on the website. But it’s clear that it’s Zaria’s mother and her new husband.
I turn a few pages to find an agreement between the society and my father, as well as Zaria’s mother. She was the one who came to Bradford and asked for me to marry her daughter. It goes on to state that I will soon take my father’s seat with the Elders of the Silver Society. All of this is foreign to me because I only learned about them a few days ago.
“Where did you get this?” I look at Jarred who’s back in his chair, watching me intently with those stormy eyes. “I don’t understand.”
“I went to Ares and asked him to help me make an offer to Bradford to get you out of your responsibilities. I told Ares that I will take your place at the table, so you can live your life freely, without recourse.” When he explains slowly, the words sink in, burrowing their way right down into the marrow of my bones.
“You did what?” This has me pushing to my feet. He should never have done that. I have to take my father’s place because it was my destiny. Even though I don’t want it, I will not forsake what was given to me. I may have been a bastard who fought my father tooth and nail, but I knew that the legacy of the Thornes goes way back, and I knew I had to do something about it. I couldn’t allow our name to disappear and be forgotten.
“It would be the same as if you were there, I would represent the Thorne name, but you get to live a life of your choosing,” Jarred continues, and that’s when I realize what he’s doing.
“You can’t sacrifice yourself for me,” I tell him.
“I don’t understand what is going on, guys,” Zaria says suddenly, dragging both our attentions back to her. I am still shocked at the news about her mother. She looks at us confused; her brows furrowed. I mentioned the Society to her on our trip to meet the Lancasters, but I never went into too much detail. She isn’t my wife yet. It makes me weary. Until she’s a Thorne, I am not sure I can trust her fully.
“Did you know your mother was the one who set up the arranged marriage with my father?” I ask, turning my full attention on her. If she did know, she would tell me because if she lies, I’ll torture the fucking truth out of her.
“No.” She shakes her head. “It was my father, he spoke to me about it before he…” Her words falter, but she doesn’t break eye contact with me. She’s been trained to be poised around people, especially when being questioned. I’ve watched her on red carpets, at events her parents attended, I’ve studied her, and I know that she has tells. But right now, none of them are present.
“It’s in black and white,” I tell her as I pull the contract from the folder on my desk and hand it to her. “Your mother thinks that my link to the Silver Sovereign will ensure the Abadi name will be connected to the Elders, who can bring her more money than fucking God.” The woman is nothing more than a gold-digging wench. I didn’t see that in her at the funeral, but then again, when you’ve spent your life pretending, it’s easy to lie with a poker face.
“I don’t understand,” Zaria mimics her previous words. “She had never spoken to me before about any of this.” Golden eyes scan the pages, before lifting to me. “I really had no clue about any of this.”
“I believe you,” I tell her. “What I don’t get is why my father decided to agree to it.” Honestly, there’s nothing in the documentation that says anything about the Thornes. It doesn’t even mention the Havens: the other family who owns this town. When I think of them, I wonder briefly if they will also become a part of the Society. I doubt Creed would ever set foot in one of those meetings. Or Keirin. Or Brody. They’re too independent and prefer doing their own thing.
“Another thing,” Jarred says, bringing my gaze back to his. “Have you looked at the photos in the folder? I mean really looked.” He moves around me, to the desk where he lifts the polaroid and hands it to me. It’s the man who married Zaria’s mother. He looks familiar, but if I had to take a guess, I would say he’s some celebrity or something.
