“Didn’t it bother you having someone wait on you hand and foot all the time?” she asked.
“Did it bother you?” he countered. Rachel paused, turning to eye him.
“What do you mean?” she asked slowly, a spark of apprehension shooting through her.
Does he know I’m Carter Vaughan’s daughter?
He had claimed to do his due diligence. Had that taken him as far back as her paternity?
And if so, why didn’t he mention it before?
Damien didn’t meet her eyes as he reached for his boxers.
“You grew up with money, didn’t you?” he asked nonchalantly.
“What makes you say that?” Rachel demanded defensively. “And even if I did, obviously I’m not rich anymore.”
She couldn’t say why, but indignation was flowing through her in a torrent. She didn’t understand his tone.
“Hey, I’m not trying to upset you,” Damien said softly. “Sorry if I did.”
“You know who my father was,” Rachel said flatly, wishing that she wasn’t so disappointed.
“No, I don’t.”
She eyed him skeptically.
“No?” she repeated. “Then why did you ask if I grew up with money?”
“You have the aura of someone who grew up in boarding schools,” Damien sighed. “I can tell a rich girl from a mile away.”
“I’m not a rich girl ... and I resent that you say you sense an aura like that with me!” Rachel snapped angrily. “Please stop saying that in such an insulting way. I-I have nothing to do with my father’s business. I made it on my own without his help.”
Well, almost on my own. Luke helped.
A sheen of disgust flashed in his eyes, for just a moment, but then he blinked and it was gone – if it had even been there at all. Rachel couldn’t understand why he would be disgusted with her. It wasn’t like he didn’t have money himself. Besides, she really didn’t have money. Not anymore, anyways.
“Bad blood between you and him?”
Rachel’s mouth pursed together and she lowered her eyes.
“It’s a long story,” she mumbled. “He wasn’t a very good father.”
“Rich dads are notoriously absentee,” Damien chuckled. “My father included.”
“Is your father well-off? I thought your wealth was self-realized?” Rachel asked curiously. Instantly, Damien clammed up, maintaining the smile on his face but it didn’t meet his eyes in the least.
“Are we really going to spend the night discussing our fathers?” he asked firmly. “Because I can think of much better things to do.”
He eyed her suggestively and Rachel found herself unsure of what to think.
You’re the one who brought up the subject, she thought.
“I hate to bring this up,” she said delicately. “But we did plan this little tête-à-tête to discuss moving forward with establishing care for your father tonight.”
A scowl appeared on Damien’s face and he snatched up his boxers.
“Business it is. Should we at least get dressed before we start this?”
“You’re right,” she muttered. “Damn, now wasn’t the best time to bring it up. Forget I said anything. Just stay here and I’ll get the food ready and bring the wine.”
He sighed, his shoulders lowering with resignation. “Actually, you’re right. I’m sorry, it’s just…difficult to go from feeling so…good,” he glanced at her body with heat flaring again in his eyes, “to thinking of Dad.”
“I know,” she said softly. “I really do understand. I’ll be right back, okay?”
Her cell phone was ringing and it took Rachel a full minute to find her handbag in the darkened front hallway where she’d discarded it.
When she finally got to it, she paused in surprise.
Luke.
Idly, she held the phone in her hand, unsure of whether to call him back or not. She thought about Damien waiting for her in the bedroom and decided against it but before she put the phone away, she pulled open her browser on a whim.
Smythe, she typed into the search engine.
Instantly twelve million results came up, among them, Damien. But that wasn’t who she was looking for.
Scrolling, her thumb rested on the photo of a distinguished looking man in his late sixties and an older, but recognizable, spitting image of the semi naked man not ten feet away in her bedroom.
Franklin Smythe. CEO and founder of Smythe Corp.
Smythe Corp. Of course. This is Damien’s father? The guy dying of stage four prostate cancer?
She refined her search, punching in “Franklin Smythe, cancer” but nothing pertaining to the man arose.
Going back, she hastily read through Franklin Smythe’s Wikipedia page, searching for clues about Damien’s father’s illness, but there was nothing to be found.
Then she saw an article that made her blood run cold. There was a picture in it, of a smiling Franklin, cutting the ribbon on a new wing to the Hospital for Psychological Wellness in Detroit. He looked hale and hearty, his arm wrapped around a buxom blonde. Rachel’s eyes searched for the date on the article and her heart skipped a couple beats when she saw that the picture had been taken two weeks previously. That man did not have stage four anything.
A now-familiar sense of alarm was knotting in her gut and slowly, she put the phone away.
“You okay out there?” Damien called.
“Yeah. Just looking for a corkscrew,” she lied, heading into the kitchen with the wine she had promised him.
Maybe it was really good makeup. But Rachel had seen enough death and illness in her time to recognize someone who was that sick. They always lost weight and their faces were gaunt and pale. That man had looked completely healthy.
Or maybe that wasn’t Damien’s father.
But even with that explanation, she couldn’t supress the unease growing inside her. Franklin Smythe was from Detroit, just like she was.
Do the Smythes know my family?
She walked back into the bedroom, suddenly very aware of her nakedness. She’d left the food in the kitchen and as she set the pinot grigio on the night stand, she instinctively reached for a blanket to cover her nakedness.
“Are you getting all shy on me suddenly?” Damien teased.
“Tell me about your father,” she asked, determined to get to the bottom of these niggling doubts. “Where is he now?”
Damien’s smile faded and he scowled slightly.
“I thought we weren’t going to talk about our fathers,” he growled. “Isn’t that what we agreed?”
“I want to know where you came from,” she said simply, not letting it drop. “Is that a problem?”
Damien’s eyes were almost black as he stared at her but he managed a smile.
“No,” he agreed. “I guess not. It’s just a touchy subject given all he’s been through.”
“Where is he now? Is he working?”
“Oh, God no. He’s completely laid up. I feel bad not being there with him.” Damien explained, his words rushing out in a wave which made Rachel wonder if he wasn’t making it up as he went along.
“Where are you from originally?”
The question seemed to take him aback.
“New York.”
“You were born in New York?”
Damien’s eyes became slits of annoyance.
“Why do I feel like I’m suddenly being interrogated?” he demanded, sitting upright. “What is this about?”
“You tell me,” Rachel said evenly. “Your father is Franklin Smythe, isn’t he?”
A thousand emotions seemed to cross over Damien’s face, and none of them were good. Rachel could almost see the wheels turning in his mind as he struggled to give her an answer.
“Have you been Googling me?” he demanded, settling on defensiveness.
“Have you been playing me?” Rachel retorted evenly, yanking the sheet even higher around her form. “Why are you really here, Damien? Does this have something to do with
my father?”
“I’m here because I like you,” he growled.
“Is your father really dying?”
A calmness seemed to settle over him and he pinned her with a cruel stare.
“You know what? It’s time for me to go,” he sneered as he pulled on his pants. “And FYI, you and your entire family can go to hell, Rachel. In fact, I hope you and Luke meet up with your dear old dad, who is surely burning there as we speak.”
Shock coursed through Rachel as she gaped at him.
“What??” she felt like she’d been physically slapped.
That was uncalled for, she thought, blinking. To her horror, tears welled behind her eyes. What the hell are you crying about? You don’t even really know this guy. He’s obviously confused and seriously messed up.
And what hurt the most? He had obviously used her, and used her caring nature against her.
God, he made me feel for him!
“What are you really doing here, Damien?” she hissed, steeling herself from his scathing glare. “I have nothing to do with the Vaughan company. You’ve wasted your time.”
As her heart continued to crack, and her embarrassment at how easily he had played her flamed through her, that long ago lesson, not to let a man deep inside her walls, reared its ugly head.
The words hurt to say but now his intentions were becoming clearer.
“You should have slept with my brother if you wanted an in with Vaughan Industries,” she continued.
A cruel smile formed on Damien’s lips and he sneered at her as he buttoned his shirt.
“I wouldn’t touch your brother with a ten-foot pole,” he growled. “Who knows where his dick’s been? After all, aren’t you all whores?”
The pain stabbed through her, tearing her walls down and leaving her wide open to the hate spewing from him.
“Get out,” Rachel whispered brokenly. “I’m sorry to ruin your evil scheme, but I have nothing to do with Vaughan Industries, or my brother anymore.” That last part wasn’t quite true, but she didn’t want this asshole to think he’d hurt Luke by breaking her heart.
“Pity,” Damien leered, his gaze sliding over her derisively. “I was looking forward to kicking you to the curb the same way your brother did my sister.”
Rachel stared at him uncomprehendingly. Tears now tumbling from her eyes.
“What the hell are you going on about?” she demanded. “Who’s your sister?”
Damien smirked.
“Collette Smythe,” he spat at her.
Then suddenly, the name Collette did register with Rachel.
“Collette!” she said, the memory of a hysterical young, blonde girl popping into her head. “You’re Collette’s brother?”
“Surprise!” he jeered.
“Are you crazy?” Rachel breathed, her confusion making reality almost swim in front of her. “You’re revenge fucking me because your teenaged sister and my teenaged brother broke up?”
She couldn’t begin to make sense of his logic except to conclude he was, in fact, unstable.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Damien hissed. “What your brother did…”
Rachel gaped at him.
“What? What did Luke do, but be a teenager?” she snapped back, suddenly feeling very naked in spite of the sheet wrapped around her.
“She was pregnant,” Damien growled. “Your fucking “protective” brother got my sister pregnant and then kicked her to the curb. She had a botched abortion and couldn’t even have children after that. She tried to kill herself! Your goddamn family ruined my family for more than fifteen fucking years!”
He towered over her suddenly, hate spewing from his gaze and lasering into her, cutting her heart into tiny pieces. “And don’t try to pretend you didn’t know about it all. She told me how you laughed at her when she went to tell your brother about the baby. How you called her a slut.
“Fuck!” he spat. “A kid your age shouldn’t have even known a word like that!”
“No, you’re lying…” Rachel breathed. “Or she’s lying – that never happened!” Shock suffocated Rachel and she shook her head.
“My sister fought tooth and nail to get herself back to the point where she found happiness again. But she’ll never be the same. Never! She had so many issues to deal with after the suicide attempt, added to her depression. We’ve had to fight tooth and nail just to get her stable and out of the hospitals she was stuck in for years.”
“Luke didn’t know about a baby,” she whispered desperately. “He would never have turned his back on her if he had.”
“He knew, goddammit. Stop fucking lying for him!” Damien spat, whirling to leave. “Never mind. I’m not surprised you’re protecting him. Nice fucking you, Rachel — you really are a horny bitch, aren’t you? I thought you’d be a much tougher mark.” He threw the hateful comment out at her before disappearing out of her bedroom door.
A moment later, she heard the smash of the door slammed hard enough to shake the apartment, leaving her alone in the darkness to ponder what the hell had just happened.
Instantly, she conjured the memory of the high-strung blond girl, wailing in the foyer as she begged Luke to take her back. Had there been any mention of a baby?
Luke would never have abandoned Collette. He is too protective to do something like that.
But if Collette had been pregnant, surely she would have told Luke, if only to keep him.
Maybe I don’t know my brother as well as I thought, Rachel thought miserably, sinking onto the bed. She reached for the bottle of wine ignoring the glass, downing a long sip as if to drown her sorrows. All she wanted to do was curl up into a ball and forget this humiliating experience had ever happened.
Just another reason I’m glad I’m far away from all things Vaughan, she thought grimly, knowing that she would never, ever tell her brother what had just happened. Whether or not Luke was guilty of the charges Damien accused him of, her brother would never let him get away with what he’d just done.
Chapter 12
“You did what?” Franklin choked, his eyes bugging out of his head.
“She figured it out already,” Damien sighed, settling back onto the sofa. “She was smarter than I gave her credit for.”
“You barely got started with her!” Franklin howled. “You were going to make her fall in love with you, remember? That was the plan!”
“I know what the plan was, Dad, but it’s done now. She knows who I am.”
“For fuck’s sake, Damien. I asked you to do one thing!” Franklin’s face was red with anger and Damien wondered why his father was taking it so personally.
“She liked me well enough until I told her what happened.”
Franklin’s eyes narrowed into slits so small, the brown of his eyes was no longer apparent.
“You told her the truth?” he echoed. Damien instantly realized his mistake.
“Dad, it wasn’t going to work anyway – She was pushing for legal documents, in order to bring you into Hollywell. She plays by the rules.” he said. “Besides, honestly, it’s been twenty years since those two were together. Collette is better now—”
“That doesn’t take back all the damage that the Vaughan family has caused us!” Franklin howled, banging his fist on the coffee table.
“Well, it’s done now,” Damien sighed. “I’m sorry but it is.”
He couldn’t deny that those words brought a sense of relief to him.
A month. I couldn’t even keep it up for one month. Things got too real, too fast, with her.
Perhaps it was the echo of Chandra’s words echoing through his mind or the notion that maybe he was fighting a battle that had nothing to do with him.
No. It’s not either of those things. It’s the fact that I was developing real feelings for Rachel. She had been nothing but genuine with him – he was sure of that, despite how he had left things with her two nights before.
The memory of her indignation, the pride behind her making it on her own�
��all of it had served to show Damien that she was nothing at all like her father or brother.
He’d seen the shock and yes, the hurt in her eyes, as he threw his frustration and his anger at her full force. As ironic as it seemed, their plan probably worked even better than they’d hoped for. She had looked truly lost by his betrayal, not that she’d admit it to him or to anyone. She had too much pride for that.
Even as he’d left her apartment two nights earlier, it had taken every fiber of his being not to go back and comfort the hurt showing in her eyes.
“No,” Franklin growled. “No, it’s not done. You need to go back and win her over again.”
“Dad, that’s not happening,” Damien snapped. “She despises me now — our plan worked well in that regard. There’s no way she’s going to take me back.”
The words sank heavily into his gut and Damien realized that not seeing Rachel again was going to affect him a lot more than he was willing to admit aloud but what else could he do? He should have paid more attention when he first met her. He remembered being worried that he was too attracted. Dammit! He wasn’t supposed to get hurt in this!
“You are a disappointment to me and your sister!” Franklin hissed. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”
“Dad, if Collette knew what we were doing—”
“You would upset your sister all over again? Did you forget how fragile she was? How could you possibly suggest bringing her into this?”
“I’m just saying that Collette finally made peace with her demons. Maybe we should too.”
“You’re a terrible brother and son. Get out of my sight.” Franklin glowered at Damien who rose stiffly. That was it. He was done.
The years of being berated and mistreated were behind him. His spine stiffened and he glared back at Franklin.
“I’m sorry I let you drag me into this in the first place,” he muttered.
“You won’t be saying that when you’re disowned, will you?” Franklin sneered and Damien waved his hand dismissively.
“Do what you have to do, Dad. You’ve lost Collette and I’ll not be walking through these doors anytime soon, after this. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m a billionaire in my own right. Your company actually makes less than mine according to last quarter’s statements. So do me a favor and save your rhetoric for those MAGA-hat wearing interns who flock to your side, all right? Disinherit, disown or do whatever the hell you want, but leave me the fuck alone.”
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