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We reach a door I’m guessing is Herbert Oakridge’s office. Logan doesn’t knock; he pushes it open and steps inside with me following a step behind. He doesn’t allow me to come into view, so I don’t know why he stops short.
Silence hangs heavily with something I can’t quite pinpoint.
“What the fuck is this?” Logan questions as he moves farther into the room. I finally take everything in, and I notice it’s not only Herbert in the room. There’s a woman with her back to us. Slowly, she turns on her high, spiked heel, and I can’t help but notice how perfectly poised she is. Dark hair spills from the clip holding her hair up.
She’s dressed in a dark pantsuit with bright-red Jimmy Choos. She’s elegant. But when my gaze lifts to her face, my heart leaps into my throat, threatening to choke me. My lungs struggle for breath when she’s fully facing me.
“Mom?” My shock is clear in the way I mutter the word. I believed my mother was dead. All my life, I recall the pain my father lived with. I remember how he would tell me I looked just like her, that he could look at me and see her beauty. The heartbreak of him losing her was so evident in his demeanor; I promised myself never to love someone so much. But as my hand tightens in Logan’s, I know I’ve broken that vow ten times over.
“For a long time, I thought you’d be the good girl your father told me you were,” she says, her voice cold, pure ice. “But the moment you ran after learning you’d have to live in the Oakridge household, I knew I’d failed you. Perhaps I shouldn’t have left.” Her shrug is nonchalant as if she’s talking about running to the store to grab some bread and milk.
“How are you . . .? I mean . . .”
She meets my gaze, and I see it. I’m the younger version of her. I wonder how my father even looked at me knowing his wife was a fucking liar.
“The only thing I wanted since I was old enough to understand how this world we live in works was the Oakridge name. But Herbert had already found his wife, the love of his life,” she sneers, anger dripping from the words. “And I had to marry your father because that was what was expected of me.”
“Why? Could you not have refused?”
“Darling,” she laughs coldly, shaking her head as if I were a child who needed to be spoken to like I’m not fully functioning. “When you grow up with a family who respects tradition more than anything, with a father who hungers for goddamned power and money, you learn to respect it too.”
“So, you married Dad because you felt you had to?” I ask her. “Because you couldn’t stand up for yourself as I did?”
“You stood up for nothing,” she spits as rage burns in her gaze like an inferno tearing down everything in its path. “You ran away when things got hard. Dad told you a lie, but I ensured that even though you run, you’ll still bear an Oakridge.”
“Yes, I will, not you,” I grit out, stepping closer to her. “I will marry Logan, and I will have his baby. If that’s a boy or girl, it will be mine,” I sneer in her face, getting so close she can feel my hot breath.
“Vera,” Logan’s tone is a warning. I’m taking a chance being so close to her, but I don’t care. There’s no way she will kill me if she wants my child. The only thing is, she doesn’t realize she’s never getting anything from me.
“You’re not my mother,” I tell her. “You’re dead to me. You died when I was a child, and you always will be nothing to me. Nothing you do will ever break me.”
“There was no lie. I was going to rule both companies. Your father’s, along with the Oakridge name, because Herbert over here couldn’t keep his mitts clean. Could you?” she questions, looking over my shoulder at the man whose face has turned ashen with shock.
“Listen to me. I’ll fix this,” Logan’s dad mutters with a hint of worry in his tone. He doesn’t look like a man whose life is about to fall to pieces. He looks like he’s about to kill my mother and laugh while doing it. There’s a burning in his gaze. Rage. Pure, unadulterated fury.
“You’ve had time to fix things for a while now, Herbert,” my mother says. “But since you’ve decided to ignore my demands and burn the contract which took years to get in place . . .” My mother’s evil smile lights up her face, and I know nothing good can come of this. “I’ve called up a few friends,” she tells him before stepping back. My gaze locks on the phone in her hand as she presses buttons, but not before Herbert pulls out a gun, pointing it at her.
