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“Reese, Olivia, come in here please.”
He visibly flinches and my brows pinch. “Reese, what’s going on?” My stomach sinks. “Why didn’t you call—”
“Reese Baron Whitfield-Brown, get in this kitchen, now,” his mum shouts, and Reese lets out a heavy sigh.
“Come on, let’s get this over with.” He takes my hand and tugs me toward the kitchen as dread snakes through me.
“Mum, Christian,” he says as we enter the room. Oak flashes him a shit-eating grin as if the whole thing amuses him.
Arsehole.
“Sit. Down.” Fiona notices our joined hands and narrows her eyes with disapproval.
“Fi,” Dad says. “Let them—”
“Why don’t you tell everyone what you did, Reese?”
We all sit, the air thick with tension.
“How do you know?” Reese asks her.
“Samuel Bancroft called me, thought I might like a heads up. Damn it Reese, you had no right. Not without talking to me first.”
“Why does it matter?” he says. “I don’t want to marry Abigail, and she sure as hell doesn’t want to marry me.”
“That wasn’t your call to make.”
“Why?”
“Excuse me?” Fiona blanches.
“Why did you broker that deal in the first place, Mum? What are you hiding?”
“Reese Baron—”
“Okay, okay. Why don’t we all just take a breather?” Dad pats Fiona’s hand, giving her a reassuring smile.
“He agreed?” I whisper to Reese, squeezing his hand under the table to command his attention. His dark gaze snaps to mine and he nods.
“He did. We’re free.”
“For God’s sake, Reese. You can’t—”
“Already did, Mum. We spoke to Judge Bancroft. He agreed. It’s done.”
“What did you promise him?” she asks quietly.
“What do you mean?”
“What did you offer him to make him renege on the deal?”
“N-nothing. We explained that we didn’t want to go through with it. Abigail—”
She lets out a heavy sigh. “This was all to protect her…”
“Fi.” Dad shakes his head. “It’s not our place.”
“Not your place to what?” Oakley pipes up.
