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I never stepped back to think about what it feels like being the son of Magnus Crawford. William’s shrouded in privilege and power and charm and money but that doesn’t change the fact that his father is an enormous douchebag and must’ve been abusive growing up. I can’t imagine William walked away from that family without deep, lasting scars, and the boy sitting across from me seems much more wounded than I ever dreamed he could. I want to reach out and understand him, but I also can’t let myself give in to that impulse.
I’m not sure if this sudden calm vulnerability is a trick or if this is the real William finally presenting himself.
Real or not, William is still William, and his family is still trying to destroy me and the band I love.
“All right then, Marie. I’m here and sitting across from you in this piece-of-shit pizza place. What do you want?”
I take a breath and I’m about to answer when the thought strikes me: what do I want? Aside from him backing down completely, what do I want from William? I’m not sure how much he can do about our situation at this point. His father’s in control now and I doubt William has the clout within his family to stop the grinding machine of the Crawford wrath. I glance out the window and think back to everything that happened, from the moment I got those emails to the moment I emailed Bella Baby, and only one thing stands out.
“I want you to admit that you did it.”
He seems surprised. His head tilts to the side and a smile plays on his lips. “Is that what this is about?”
I nod once, trying to keep my fury under control. He can be so damn patronizing sometimes, like my feelings don’t matter.
“You tried to act like it wasn’t you in those pictures.” I turn to stare into his face and I feel a wave of unfamiliar emotions. I’m angry, but I’m also betrayed and all I want is for him to acknowledge that he did something wrong for once in his life. I want him to take some responsibility for the situation we’re in. “You tried to gaslight me and downplayed how I felt. Not only did you fuck some other girl, but you spit in my face afterward.”
“You took it too far.” His smile slips away. “Going to Bella Baby like that. What were you thinking, Marie?”
“I was hurt and I wanted to make you hurt too. I wanted you to see how serious it was.”
He rubs his temples and takes a deep breath. He’s silent for several seconds and I don’t know what he’s thinking. But finally, he looks up and his face is determined.
“Yes, that was me in those pictures. Yes, I was cheating on you. Yes, I shouldn’t have done it. Is that what you want? Does that fix anything at all? Does it change a damn thing?”
I almost laugh. Hearing that now, after everything, is such a small victory, but it’s a victory nonetheless. “If only you’d said that from the start.”
“You think you wouldn’t have thrown my family under the bus?”
“That’s not what I intended to do.”
A flicker of his anger returns. “But that’s what happened. Do you have any idea how many calls and messages my father has gotten and how many of his business partners have made comments about backing away from deals? We’re toxic right now, Marie. Everyone knows I’m going to take over the Crawford empire one day, and the idea that I’ll be a liability is now firmly implanted in every single investor’s mind. I have you to thank for that. I’ll be clawing my reputation back from this disaster for years.”
“That wasn’t my intention. Bella Baby—”
“Rumors have long reach. They last for as long as memory preserves them.” He leans forward, hands planted on the table on either side of his plate. The slice of pizza remains untouched. “You never should’ve sent that email to Baby. You never should’ve put those pictures online. You fucked me, Marie.”
“I didn’t—”
“You fucked me hard, you selfish little—” He stops himself, jaw clenched tight, and I lean away from him, afraid that he’ll lurch forward and try to hurt me. His eyes are bugging out, and the sudden reversal is terrifying, but more of what I expected from him.
William is charming, yes, but he’s also got an undercurrent of anger deep below the surface, probably instilled in him by his piece of trash father and years of abuse.
But regardless of why he’s broken and angry, he’s still looking at me like he wants to tear off my head.
I take a couple breaths to calm myself. Sweat’s beading my skin. Behind the counter, the guy working the register is watching me with a curious frown, like he can see how scared I am right now. William sounds unhinged, and the way he’s jumping between contrition and anger makes me realize that I’m missing something here. And I’m certainly not safe.
