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ChapterThirteen
THEO
Today is the day.
The day I tell Christian Maxwell that I am in love with his daughter. I should feel nervous, but all I feel is indifferent. Last night I came to the conclusion that no matter what his reaction is, it won’t change the outcome. Thalia is mine, whether her father approves or not.
I’m guessing he won’t approve, but that’s his problem not mine.
I asked Christian, Thalia, and her mother to meet me at my house. It’s not really something I want to discuss in my office in the barn, not when there will be prying ears around. The one thing Christian expects over everything when it comes to his family is discretion.
I requested a meeting with him. He thinks it’s to discuss Thalia’s schedule whilst we’re away and although I will soften the conversation with some of that, the whole point of this is to tell him about our relationship so we can be together how we want.
Publicly.
I’ve claimed her every way possible in private, now it’s time to go public with our relationship. Let the vultures know my piccola is claimed.
My cell buzzing on my desk drags me out of my thoughts. I glance down, scowling then red buttoning the call when I see the name flashing on the screen.
I have enough to deal with today. I don’t need Mel’s shit too. I haven’t heard from her in weeks. Not since I showed her the evidence, I have on her. I don’t know why she’s calling me now. Maybe it’s to arrange a meeting with her father and sort out what’s happening with everything? Yeah. That must be it. She would be stupid to start some more shit regarding Thalia.
My cell buzzes again and I’m about to answer and shout at her to back the fuck off when I see it’s a message from my piccola. I grab my phone, opening it to see what she has to say.
Piccola: We’re just leaving. I hope you’re ready for this. Love you. x
I love her too. So much that even if I’m not ready for this, I will still do it. She is worth every bit of anger from Christian Maxwell that I am sure is coming to me.
Me: I’m ready. See you soon. Love you too. x
I drop my cell on the desk and run a hand through my hair.
This is it.
In less than an hour, it will all be out in the open.
* * *
Around twenty minutes later there’s a knock at my door. I’m ready for it. I’ve been pacing my foyer ever since I received the message from Thalia.
Taking a breath, I step to the door and pull it open with a forced smile. Christian, Elena, and Thalia—without her crutches—stand there looking like the perfect catalogue family whilst their security stays by the car. My eyes move between them and although Thalia looks calm, I can tell by the way she plays with the hem of her shirt and nibbles her lip she’s nervous.
“Theo, good to see you again,” Christian drawls.
I clear my throat. “Likewise, why don’t you all come in?” I sweep my arm, waving them inside. “Let’s go to the living room. It’s more comfortable in there,” I say once they are all inside. I spin, then start in that direction.
“You have a lovely home,” A soft feminine voice says behind me. I know it’s not my piccola—I would know her voice anywhere—it’s Elena.
“Thank you,” I say, pushing through the door of the lounge. I wait for everyone to get situated before me. Elena and Christian take the couch and Thalia takes the single wingback chair, which leaves the loveseat for me.
“Can I get anyone a drink?” I ask, trying to be polite but also trying to give myself five minutes to get my thoughts together.
“Water, if you have it,” Christian says.
“Water’s fine,” this from Elena. My eyes move to Thalia to find hers already on me.
“Same. Thank you,” she mumbles as she fidgets in her chair. I nod, then make my way to the kitchen where I grab four bottles of water. Dropping them on the counter, I brace my hands and take a deep calming breath. Jesus. This is more nerve wracking than I anticipated. Yes, I will go ahead with it, but I think I am so blinded by my love for Thalia that I forgot what a man like Christian Maxwell could do to me. Not that he can destroy me any more than Mel has at this point, but still. I can only hope for the best but will expect the worst anyway. At least then, if it’s the latter, I’ll be ready for whatever he throws my way.
Grabbing the bottles, I stride to the living room with an air of confidence I certainly don’t feel. They talk amongst themselves, stopping when I enter. I smile, hand them all their drinks, then take a seat myself. Christian stares at me, waiting for me to start. I do.
