The weight and power and control my father had held over our lives, whether we knew it or not, had been completely destroyed.
So even though my feelings toward my mother are complicated at best, I’m trying to look at her as another victim of my father’s. Maybe all her hate and spitefulness came directly from him, just as mine did. We were both products of our environment, damaged goods.
All of us are. But it doesn’t mean we’ll stay that way.
When it comes to the rest of my family, though, who knows what they’re going to say or think. I can’t imagine any of them will be mourning him, especially after the truth came out in a very big, very splashy way. I’ll be surprised if they even show, given how my father fucked up all their lives. And I certainly can’t imagine their attitudes toward me changing.
Months ago, that wouldn’t have bothered me at all.
But now it does.
There’s a knock at the door that steals my attention away from my thoughts, and the two of us turn around to see a familiar face poke in. I squeeze Gabrielle’s hand tighter.
It’s my cousin Renaud, who came in from California, who I haven’t seen since my uncle’s funeral. Of all my cousins, he’s always been rather intimidating. Tall, stocky, and stoic, Renaud is the silent type, and so I’ve never gotten to know him the way I did everyone else.
“Pascal,” he says, stepping inside. “Am I interrupting something?”
I shake my head. “Not at all. How are you, Renaud?”
“Not too bad,” he says, coming toward me and holding out his hand.
I shake his and then slap him lightly on the shoulder. “No jet lag?”
He shrugs. “Probably. I have to admit, this doesn’t seem quite real.” He pauses and studies me. He looks so much like Olivier in some ways, it’s disconcerting. “I suppose I should say I’m sorry for your loss.”
“And I suppose I should tell you thank you,” I say to him. “But I wouldn’t mean it. I appreciate the sentiment, but . . .”
He nods, pursing his lips. “Yeah. I know. This can’t be easy. Or maybe it can.”
“It’s easier now that you’re here,” I say, and then I gesture to Gabrielle. “She makes it easier too. Renaud, meet my girlfriend, Gabrielle.”
He gives her a charming smile. “I’ve heard a lot about you. From the papers, of course. You’re even famous in America.”
“Don’t believe everything you hear,” she says, but her voice is light.
“It’s hard not to with this family,” he says. Then he looks to me. “You know I’m not alone, right?” he says. And then he moves out of the way to show that Olivier and Sadie are standing in the doorway.
Ah shit. I really didn’t think they’d come.
In fact, I hoped they wouldn’t, purely on a selfish level, purely so I wouldn’t have to face them again and be reminded what a lying, scheming, extorting piece of shit I was.
“Olivier, Sadie,” I say to them, my voice tight with anxiety.
Olivier doesn’t move. His eyes lock with mine, and I feel the venom in them. It’s enough to make my skin crawl.
Then Sadie pokes him in the side and tells him in fluent French, “Don’t be a big baby, go say hello.”
I give her a grateful smile. I’m so surprised—not only at what she said but at the fact that she said it in French.
She glares at me in return.
Fair enough.
Olivier heeds her warning and comes forward, with Sadie right behind him. He stops in front of me, and for a very long moment, we continue to stare each other down.
“Wow, this is more awkward than I thought,” Gabrielle says from behind me.
Sadie looks to her in surprise with a touch of admiration at that, while Renaud lets out a relieved laugh. “Yes, I thought it would be immediate fisticuffs.” He says the last word in English.
“Fisty cuffs?” I repeat.
Sadie raises her fists. “You know, fighting with your fists. I thought Olivier would be the one to throw the first punch, that’s for sure. Followed by me. But I would do more of a kickintheballs.”
I laugh, the tension dissipating. I don’t think I’ve laughed in a long time, and maybe it’s inappropriate right now, but maybe I’ll always be inappropriate in some way. I can’t do a complete one-eighty, and I’m not sure I want to.
“Well,” I say, throwing my arms out to the sides, “have at me. I more than deserve it.”
Olivier narrows his eyes, seeming to think it over, and his jaw goes tense, his fisticuffs at his sides. I ruined this man’s life for a while, and though it seems he now has everything he’s ever wanted, I’m not off the hook. What I did can’t be forgotten or forgiven.
But then his features soften, and he cracks a dry smile. “From the looks of it, you’ve already been through enough.” He gestures to my face, which is still bruised from Gabrielle’s whacking.
“If it makes you feel better, she did it,” I say, gesturing to Gabrielle.
Her mouth drops as she stares up at me. “Thanks for throwing me under the bus.”
“Don’t worry,” Olivier says to her. “That just means you’re on our side.”
“And you’re kind of my hero,” Sadie says. Then she comes forward, brushing me to the side and holding her hand out for Gabrielle. “I’m Sadie, by the way. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”
“Likewise,” Gabrielle says, shaking her hand and then pulling her in to kiss her on both cheeks. I swear I see Sadie blush.
“Oh, you French, I’d forgotten all about the bisous,” Sadie says, giggling, hand at her cheek.
It’s cute. They’re cute. If Olivier and Sadie ever moved back to Paris, I think the two of them would be great friends.
While they’re occupied, Sadie showing off her engagement ring to Gabrielle, I glance at Renaud, who just shrugs and turns to look out the window, leaving Olivier and me facing each other.
“I don’t know if it matters,” I tell him, my heart pounding as the words come out, “but I’m really, really sorry for what I did to you. I know it doesn’t change anything. I know it sounds like I’m saying this for my own purposes, for my own exaltation, but . . . I just wanted you to know that you’ve weighed heavily on my mind ever since. I don’t ask for forgiveness; I just want you to know that I have a conscience, and it was not let off easy.”
He nods, his mouth in a firm line. “Duly noted,” he says.
Okay. Maybe it’s not the best I hoped for, but it’s good enough for now. Olivier is a good man. He’ll come around. And if he doesn’t, I did my best.
He clears his throat. “I suppose I should tell you I’m sorry. That you lost your father.”
“You don’t have to. I’m not sorry.”
He studies me for a moment, as if to see whether I’m lying.
“He deserved it,” I added quietly. “I have no guilt, no qualms over what I did. And that’s not because I don’t have a heart. I very much have a heart. She’s standing right over there. And I did it for her. I did it for me. I did it for you, for Blaise, for Seraphine, I did it for your father and your mother. I did it for everyone, and it was the only thing left to do.” I pause, licking my lips. “Even if it wasn’t in self-defense, I probably would have done it anyway. Maybe that makes me just like him.”
Olivier shakes his head. “No. That doesn’t make you like him. That just makes you like yourself.”
I can live with that.
“Oh,” I hear Gabrielle say from behind me, and when I follow her gaze to the door, I see Blaise and Seraphine slowly walking into the room, as if not to disturb anyone.
“What a bunch of ghouls,” Seraphine says with a wry smile. “This looks more like a party than it does a funeral.”
She looks good. Dressed in a navy dress instead of black, no doubt one of her own creations from her Seraphine line. It suits her—and the small baby bump she has. Blaise is beside her, his hand at her elbow in a protective manner.
Blaise.
My brother.
I
didn’t know what I’d feel when I saw him again, but suddenly there’s no question. A million buried emotions are rising up out of me, threatening to explode.
Before I can control myself, I’m striding across the room toward him and wrapping my arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. Tears spill from my eyes as I hold on.
“I’m so sorry, brother,” I say into his shoulder, wishing I would stop crying, wishing I could pull it together, but I know that it’s too late. I’ve kept all this inside for too long, and it’s like a dam being lifted. No more hiding, no more pretending, no more masks. “I am so sorry.”
Blaise is completely still, tense, and it takes him a moment to hug me back.
“It’s okay,” he says, and I hear the strain in his voice too. “It’s over now. It’s all over.”
“I’ve been the worst brother,” I go on. “I never . . . I didn’t realize what that meant. What I lost. I didn’t realize who I was until it was almost too late. I hope it’s not too late for us. I hope we can start again. This time without his shadow over us. This time without any fear.”
Blaise pulls back and holds my face in his hands before kissing me on the forehead in a gesture of brotherly love I’ve never felt before.
It seems to set everything right in my world.
Our father is gone.
Now we are free.
He then pats me on the back. “I’m proud of you. You did what I never had the guts to do.”
“It helps not having a conscience,” I say, simultaneously giving him a wicked smile while I wipe away a tear.
“Ah, but you do have one. We’ve all seen it now. It’s too late for you, Pascal, you’re going to have to walk the line.”
“We’ll see,” I tell him, patting him on the shoulder right back.
Now that we’ve broken apart, I can see everyone else staring at us with either interest or shock. I know Olivier still thinks we’re cut from the same cloth. I suppose we are: Blaise just reached his own redemption before I did.
“I never thought I’d see the day,” Seraphine muses, eyeing us with her hand on her hip.
I give her a winning smile. “Seraphine,” I say, holding my arms out for her.
She rolls her eyes, shaking her head. “You and I are not on hugging terms.”
“Hear, hear, sister,” Sadie pipes up.
I ignore her. With a pleading look from Blaise, Seraphine sighs heavily and then trudges over to me. She puts her arms around me, holding me lightly.
“I still hate you,” Seraphine whispers in my ear. “But I do forgive you. Thank you for saying all that to Blaise. He’s missed you, if you believe it or not.”
She pulls back and gives me a little smile, and in that smile, I know she means it. Maybe not even the hate part, but the forgiveness part.
Then she breaks away and goes back to Blaise’s side, holding his hand and kissing him on the cheek. “I threatened him,” she tells him, throwing a quick glance at me. “I don’t trust him for beans.”
I can’t help but grin in return.
It’s obvious now that Renaud, Olivier, Sadie, Blaise, and Seraphine all arrived at the funeral together, because they’re moving along like the well-oiled wheels of a train, circling Gabrielle with interest.
“Blaise, Seraphine,” I say, going over to Gabrielle and putting my arm around her waist. “This is Gabrielle. I hope you don’t hold the fact that she’s with me against her.”
“Not at all,” Blaise says. “Seems like you’re the one who finally turned my brother around.”
“I think maybe he’s the one who turned me around,” she says, shooting me a smile that makes my heart swell.
There’s a loud knock at the door, and we all exchange looks, wondering who we’re missing here.
But it’s just the funeral director, poking in his head.
“The funeral is starting,” the director says, giving us all a quick but solemn smile before he disappears.
We start heading for the door.
“All right,” Seraphine says, clapping her hands together. “Let’s go put this son of a bitch in the ground.”
We all stop in our tracks, staring at her with nervous laughter on our lips.
“What?” she says. “We’re all thinking it, right? Almost all of us were victims of his in one way or another. Let’s not sugarcoat it. Let’s call it what it is. Gautier Dumont is dead. And the world is better for it.”
Everyone murmurs in response, nobody else being so bold as to say it, but we’re definitely all feeling it.
The Dumont brand will go on, in a whole new way, creating a whole new legacy.
The cycle is over.
And it ended with me.
EPILOGUE
PASCAL
Mallorca
Five years later
“Pascal. Help.”
I put my razor down and open the door to the bedroom, peering out around the corner.
Gabrielle is lying on her back, arms splayed, her bare legs dangling over the edge of the bed. On the floor beneath her feet is a pair of sandals. I can’t see her face over the gigantic mound of her pregnant belly.
“What happened?” I ask, coming around the bed to peer at her. I can’t help but smile. Even with her blonde hair covering half her face and the anguish in her blue eyes, she looks absolutely gorgeous. This is her third pregnancy, and I swear she gets more and more beautiful every time. It’s like she was made for it.
“I can’t reach my feet,” she cries out softly. “I can’t put my shoes on. I’m too fat.”
“Not too fat,” I remind her, placing my hand on her belly. “Too pregnant.”
“I won’t survive the next month.”
“You say that every time, and every time you do just fine,” I tell her, walking around the foot of the bed. “Better than fine. You’re a survivor.”
“Next time, you’re getting pregnant.”
I grin as I stoop down to pick up her sandals. “You’re already thinking of a next time? I thought you were at the never again part of the pregnancy.”
She just grumbles something as I pick up her feet and gently put her sandals on her. “Want help?” I ask, knowing she’s going to have to roll over if she wants to get up.
“Just leave me.”
“We have to go down for dinner in a few minutes,” I remind her.
“Then shave faster.”
I chuckle and head back into the bathroom, quickly shaving my face. Through the bathroom window, the evening light comes in. It’s October here, and though the time hasn’t changed yet, the days are getting shorter. But it’s still warm, and the breeze coming in through the window carries no chill, and I can hear the sounds of our daughters, Adele and Cadence, playing in the sand.
I smile to myself and catch sight of it in the reflection in the mirror. It’s been almost five years since Cadence was born and two since Adele. My face hasn’t changed all that much—let’s say the Dumont antiaging line does fucking wonders for the skin—but what change there is, is in the eyes. They have lines at the corners. They’re more prone to crinkling. Maybe from being in the sun but most likely from laughing. Smiling. Enjoying life. Loving my family.
It’s not always been easy. There have been ups and downs. Adele has a heart defect and has already had a few operations, and she’s just turned two. But she’s so strong. She’s a survivor, just like her mother. And she’s such a happy girl, nothing holds her back. If anything, we’re the ones who have to watch for her more carefully.
Being a father has taught me so much. When Cadence was born, I was more terrified than Gabrielle was. I thought I would turn right back into my father. I never had love growing up. I never had support or someone to really watch over me, nurture me, make sure that I would turn out right. All I got were harsh words and hard hands.
I told Gabrielle my fears over and over again as Cadence’s birth approached. At the time, I was still struggling with getting the Dumont company under control after my father’s death; then
this tiny human being was on the way. I figured I would manage to fuck it up somehow. I had never been so scared.
But then Cadence was born, and everything I feared disappeared the moment I saw her face. The love I felt was bigger than me, bigger than us, bigger than the room. I knew I didn’t have to be afraid again.
That was a lie, of course. I’m a parent now. I’ll always be afraid.
I just don’t fear myself. Because I know that I would do absolutely anything for Cadence, Adele, and the little one on the way. I know that I am the opposite of my father in every way that counts and that my girls have grown up feeling nothing but love and support and encouragement.
And so we laugh. We laugh and cry, and we stick through the ups and downs and ebbs and flows of life together. Sometimes it’s hard having to be the head of the company, and the work does take me away from the girls more than I’d like. But we make do with it, and I always make it up to them.
Like now.
I’ve been working like a fiend all summer leading up to Paris Fashion Week, and now that the shows are behind us for now, I arranged for us to come to the family estate in Mallorca for a two-week-long vacation. We haven’t been back as often as we’ve wanted—considering how special this place is to Gabrielle and me—so now we’re making up for it.
We’re not alone either. Obviously Cadence and Adele are here with us. But so are Seraphine and Blaise and their daughter, who have been here for a few days now. And earlier today, Renaud and his wife, Jen, as well as Olivier, Sadie, and their twin boys, Damon and Ludovic, showed up. I hadn’t seen them for a year, so it was a long time coming.
I see Seraphine and Blaise often, though. Seraphine is still the CEO of her own clothing line and works out of Paris now. Blaise is the COO at Dumont. I really didn’t think he’d come back, and it took me practically wooing him for a few years until he relented. Okay, so first it was Gabrielle nagging me for months that I needed to swallow my pride and ask Blaise to come back. It might have taken a year for me to finally work up the nerve. But now, everything is fine.
I mean, he still gets on my fucking nerves, and he never lets anything bother him, especially the things that should bother him. But I’m glad I have him by my side.
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