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Fortunately, I sound a lot more composed than I feel.
He takes a sip of his drink, then gives out a short, mocking laugh. "Fuck off with the pleasantries."
"Pardon me?" I ask, taken aback.
My pulse is pounding beneath my skin, as fast as a horse's gallop. I know I haven't misheard him. I'm just shocked he has the nerve to be so hostile.
"It's clear you don't like me, but we can at least keep this civil—"
"You don't set the tone of this conversation," he cuts me off, taking a menacing step toward me. He might be old, but he's still tall, with a choking aura swirling around him. And after what he did to Alex, I know what he's capable of. "You might have my pea-brain son fooled, but I know what you're after, you scheming, gold-diggingcunt."
He's bold to talk about gold-diggers when he's clearly engaged to one.
"Don't talk to me like that," I snap.
"Or what?"
I don't have an answer. He chuckles. "You clearly have no idea what you're getting yourself into. Did youreallythink you could weasel your way into this family? That I would ever allow Alexander to marry the likes ofyou?"
I narrow my eyes at him, standing my ground even as he advances on me. He's close enough for me to smell the whiskey on his breath and the overbearing tang of his cologne. I find myself wishing Wesley would show up now.
Something tells me Griffin doesn't want anyone else to hear this conversation. It's why he ambushed me out here, after all.
"Alexander and I are in love," I say, softly. "I don't care about your family's money. I have my own." It's a bluff. I know my father has money, but how much of it is mine, I'm unsure of.
Griffin laughs derisively. "Right."
"I'm not sure what you want me to say." I find my voice, and I push as hard as I can to get the words out. "Alexander isn't going to leave me, and I'm not going to leave him." I feel the truth of what I'm saying reverberating in my chest as I speak. "It would be better if you just accept it for what—"
Griffin throws his drink in my face.
The alcohol stings my eyes. I jerk back with a yelp, losing my balance and falling backward onto the stone terrace. My vision is blurry but I can make out Griffin's shadow looming over me. I wipe my eyes, but the pain only gets worse.
"Alexander's affection has inflated your ego, I see." His voice comes from above. I stagger to my feet, holding on to the railing for support. "Don't think you can talk to me like that. I'm two fucking seconds away from bashing your face in, whore." His voice drips with venom, and I don't doubt a word he says.
It finally settles on me just how much danger I'm in.
I could pull my gun, launch an attack, but then what? He would shoot me before I even got a round off. And even if I did, I would never make it out of here alive, even if Alexander made it to me first. My options are slim.
"I'm not hurting you because I know you're pregnant with that bastard baby."
My whole body grows cold, and despite the pain throbbing through my skull, I force myself to look at him. He's wearing a smug smile–a knowing smile.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I say, summoning all the courage I can find. "I'm not pregnant."
"Did you really think you could visit one ofmydoctors and think something as important as that wouldn't get back to me?"
I should’ve known Dr. Khatri would snitch.
He might have seemed genuine, but he is still thefamilydoctor. And telling the head of their family about a new addition would be pretty high up on his list.
When I told him not to tell anyone, I was only thinking he might tell Alexander. But Griffin finding out about the baby? That slipped me, and I feel like a fool for missing it.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I say again.
He flings the empty glass to the ground. The delicate crystal shatters between us.Wesley, where are you?I straighten, still gripping the railing.
My mind starts reeling with the implications of what he's said. He called our baby a bastard, not his grandchild, but abastard. Is this a race thing? I can't pinpoint why he hates me, but it seems so deep-rooted.
