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As Duke’s truck pulled down the driveway, the warm, fuzzy feeling from the doctor’s office evaporated.
SIXTEEN
SYLVIE
My father’sPorsche was parked in front of the house, and knots formed in my stomach. I carefully unclipped the seat belt and shifted toward the door. “Thanks for taking me.”
I needed to get inside as quickly as possible, before my father confronted Duke and made a scene.
Duke’s hand reached out and brushed my arm, stopping me from exiting. “Are you okay?”
I focused on not glancing toward the car or the house. “Yep. Thanks again.” The hollow cheeriness infused in my voice was a lie, but I needed Duke to leave.Now.
Without looking back, I closed the truck door and hurried up the porch steps. The heavy door betrayed me, groaning when I opened it.
“Sylvie.” My father’s voice bounced off the high ceilings and echoed down the hallway.
Steeling my nerves, I lifted my chin and walked toward the living room. My fingers curled around the waxy paper of the ultrasound photos.
In the living room, Russell King was dressed in dark slacks, an expensive navy polo, and shiny dress shoes. Not a hair out of place, he looked like a man who ruled his kingdom.
Because he did.
I stood, shoulders back and chin high as I waited, just as I had been taught.
He looked me over once before returning to pace across the living room. His eyes had a way of moving over me but never really seeingme. I knew he saw my mother when he looked at me. How could he not? We could have easily passed as sisters. I’d given up on trying to prove how different from her I was a long time ago. It didn’t matter what I did—he would always look at me and seeherstaring back at him.
“I spoke with Bug this morning. She’s informed me you’re planning to keep this baby?”
I swallowed and prayed my voice didn’t break. “I am.”
He stopped and turned to me as though he was still surprised to hear that I would keep a baby that was half-Sullivan. My dad never had a poker face, and the subtle disgust smeared across his features was glaring.
Hot, sweaty prickles tingled at my hairline as he stared at me.
With a curt nod, he continued pacing. “Well, then. We’ll just be sure he knows he’s a King. Raise him right.”
Tell him. Tell him you’re moving to Savannah and never coming back.
“Yes, sir.”
I hated how small and insignificant he made me feel. I hated that I couldn’t speak up against him, even now.
He sighed in relief and scrubbed a hand over his clean-shaven face, letting loose an audible sigh. My father rocked back on his heels. “And don’t you worry, I’ll take care of the Sullivan boy.”
I would have laughed at anyone calling Duke a boy until my father’s words sank in. “Take care of him? What would?—”
My father raised a hand, cutting me off. “That baby is a King. He will be raised as a King by Kings. That’s the end of the discussion.”
“Duke has every right to be involved with this baby.” I scoffed in disbelief that I even had to utter these words. I pressed my hand to my belly. “As the mother of this child, I get to choose.”
“You gave up your right to choose when you spread your legs for a Sullivan.” His angry words slapped me across the face. “I willnothave another woman walk into my house and disrespect me.” We both knew exactly who he was talking about as his loud, angry words filled the living room.
Tears welled and my lip began to tremble as hurt and fury rattled through me.
“Don’t you dare,” he spit. “Don’t you dare cry and act like you’re the victim.” He pointed toward the stairwell. “You go upstairs, you fix that face, and hold your head up high. You’re a King and you will damn well act like it!”
“Sylvie.” The heat and anger in Duke’s voice had my head whipping around to see him storming through the doorway of my family home.
