by Ivy Fox
“Carmen, breathe. I need you to breathe and repeat what you just said,” I choke out, my own body beginning to shudder just as profusely.
Carmen places her wet palms over my shoulders, her eyes puffy and red, and her nose sniffling freely.
“Rome, he was the devil! The devil incarnate! Somehow he knew that I told Eleanora the truth. That he had been raping me since I was eighteen years old when I came to live with my avó. That I had not known another man, nor would I ever, because of him. Because he destroyed me.
“He was a curse in this house and knew everything that was said in its dark corners. The night I told her, Eleanora ordered me to pack a bag the next day, and that she would come back to get me away from under his villainous hands. She promised she was going to get me out of this hell with her. But then on that same day, she died. He killed her, Rome.
“I was so afraid that I never again told a single soul the truth. Not even to the priest during confession. I was too afraid I would be responsible for his death, too. It was because of me that your mamma died, Rome. Because of me! I’m so sorry. Oh, God, I’m so sorry!” she continues to rant, tears now flowing freely on her pretty face.
I grab a linen napkin off the table to clean her tears away and try to offer her some form of comfort, even though my mind is too loud to make sense of any of this. I wipe her face as best I can, but it’s a fool’s errand as her tears continue to fall abundantly. It’s almost as if this is the first time Carmen has allowed herself to grieve for her tarnished youth and the heavy burden she has endured over so many years. Years filled with the torment my father inflicted on her. But when it comes to my mother’s untimely death, that is one cross she should have never carried.
“My mother’s death was not your fault, Carmen. It was just an awful coincidence. A cab ran over my mother when she didn’t look both ways on a busy street. Yes, the timing was unfortunate, but it wasn’t something my father could control, no matter how much he wished to. You are not at fault. You are an innocent soul, Carmen. Just like my mother. Just like Holland.” Her sniffles stop at that last name and she looks intently at me.
“No, please. Do not tell me he went after that sweet girl, too?”
“He did. But she fought back. How do you think he wound up in the hospital in the first place?”
“She fought him?” She hiccups.
“She did. As you did, trying to protect all those you loved. You thought that bringing my father to justice would threaten the lives of everyone you hold dear. So you fought him, too. You are a fighter, Carmen, and now it’s over. You no longer need to be brave. You no longer have to fight. It’s over. Estás segura.”
She falls to the floor, hugging me with such might, as all her tears fight themselves to break free. I hold her tight as she releases all that ailments from the cage hidden within the confinements of her being. My eyes catch luminous white-gold at its corner, so I tilt my head toward the entrance and see a choked-up Snow witnessing Carmen’s devastation—the same wreckage she would have to overcome if my father had his way.
I shut my eyes and make another vow—one that I will fight tooth and nail to uphold.
This house will never see another day of such vile hate and terror. Its walls will never hold such tyranny or destruction anew. As long as Graysons live here, fear will never see the light of day again. On my mother’s soul, this house will only harbor love.
“You’re thinking about Carmen again, aren’t you?” Snow whispers in the dark as she draws circles on my chest.
“I’m sorry. I can’t seem to shake it off,” I explain while running my fingers up and down her bare back.
“You know, most girlfriends would be upset their boyfriend was thinking about another woman while she was stark naked in his bed.” She tries to joke, placing a kiss to my bicep.
“You’re not like most girlfriends,” I tease, nudging the tip of her button nose with my knuckle.
“You’re right, I’m not. You want to talk about it, then? If it’s constantly on your mind, it means there’s something still troubling you.”
“All of it troubles me. I mean, how did I not see it? How was he able to get away with all the damage he caused?”
“You can’t blame yourself, Rome. Your father was a skilled manipulator. You said so yourself, that when the family had to attend social gatherings, you all seemed like a united front, but the minute he stepped foot inside this house, he neglected and tormented all of you. You are not at fault for him using yet another, and more villainous, mask to hide the real predator inside him.”
“I feel like it’s my fault, though.”
“That’s because you’re used to taking care of everyone in this house. It’s normal you want to shift the burden away from Carmen onto your own shoulders. That’s just the man you are. The man I love.”
“Are you sweet-talking me now?” I ask with a chuckle.
“I think you have a big head already without having to stroke your ego,” she reprimands with a naughty tug to her lip.
“Ah, little liar, we both know what you’ll be stroking in about five seconds, don’t we?”
“You’re incorrigible.”
“What I am, is hard for you,” I tell her, licking my lips while gripping my stiff cock so she can see how sincere my statement is.
She gives me a little giggle, as I push her body further on top of me. Only when I clear the strands away from her gorgeous face, do I see that the flirtatious gray eyes I expected to see, have been replaced by a concerned, haughty hue.
“What’s wrong?”
“I was thinking of Addison.”
“Fuck, little liar. If you wanted to shrivel up my cock, then saying that bitch’s name is definitely the way to go,” I huff.
“Don’t get all sensitive with me. It’s normal to think about my sister from time to time. Especially considering her mother is in jail for your father’s murder. And with you bringing up Carmen and all, I wonder if she didn’t suffer something similar because of your father, too.” She bites at her lower lip pensively.
“Oh, no! Don’t you go and feel sorry for Addison of all people. I caught them together, Snow. She looked more than a willing participant to me.”
“Maybe. Or maybe she took the path of least resistance.”
“I doubt that very much. Addison only does what she wants. I don’t see her ever being coerced or manipulated into anything against her will. Not a chance in hell.”
“You might be right, but still, we’ll never know. Not unless we talk to her.”
“Snow, don’t. I don’t want her in our lives. I forbid it,” I command forcefully, not liking where my girl’s head is going with this conversation. But instead of her taking my warning seriously, it only makes her head fall back, uncontrollable laughter taking over her. “I don’t see what’s so funny.” I pout.
“Oh, I’m sorry, but this is too rich. Did you honestly just say you ‘forbid it,’ Roman? Oh, God, haven’t you learned a thing during all this time with me? It’s not only Addison who does whatever she pleases. In that way, we are both very similar. I do what I want, when I want, Rome. And not you, Ollie, or Ash are ever going to stand in my way. Is that understood?” She cocks her brow for good measure.
And as her spunky, snarky attitude resurfaces, so does the blood to my dick, loving the mouth on her.
“Oh, I understand perfectly.” I lick my lips again. “Now tell me, little liar, just exactly what you want to do now? Because I have a couple of suggestions.” Her stern expression falls, and in its place is the fire I adore.
“As I said, I don’t take orders. I give them,” she taunts and throws herself onto her back, putting her arms behind her head, waiting for my move. “I think that bossy mouth of yours could be put to better use, don’t you?” she mocks, but damn it if she doesn’t look sexy as fuck ordering my ass around.
“At your service,” I gladly concede, shimmying down her body to find exactly what my tas
te buds hunger for most.
For the rest of the night, I let her order me around until her throat is hoarse from calling out my name every time my tongue, fingers, or cock brings her over the edge. But once I’ve left her good and boneless, enjoying her post-orgasmic coma, my mind wanders once more.
Only now, it’s not Carmen’s suffering that keeps me awake, but the woman who made sure her tormentor could never hurt her again—Claire.
It’s been a week since her arrest. A week since my name was cleared of any wrongdoing, and hers was slung through the mud—hers, and of course, Addison’s. Once the media hooked their claws into her daughter’s skanky ways of fucking around on her ex with his own father, I no longer held the title of being this city’s enemy number one. Before, they used the affair as my motive for revenge, but now, New York is being torn to shreds because of one mother’s act of vengeance. Some people are calling Claire mother of the year for protecting her daughter, while others claim vapid stupidity since Addison was far from virtuous.
With all the evidence stacked against Claire, she struck a deal with the DA for a shorter sentence and pled guilty to all charges. Rosenblum was more than happy to give her a deal and sweep this whole case under the rug as fast as he could, seeing as my trial made him look like an incompetent buffoon. With bought witnesses and a dirty coroner on the payroll—making a mockery out of the district attorney’s office—the DA’s political ambitions now go as far as praying to still have a job by the end of the year. Not that I give a shit either way, but Claire going after me specifically, does leave a bad taste in my mouth.
As the sun begins to illuminate the room, my mind is made up.
“Rome? Didn’t you rest at all?” Snow hushes, wiping the sleep out of her eyes, looking beautiful under dawn’s soft hues.
“I need to visit someone. Do you want to come with me?” She nods her head softly, yawning into her closed fist.
“Okay. Who are we going to visit?” she murmurs, still half-asleep.
“Claire.”
Chapter 19
Holland
“Your name wasn’t on my approved visitor’s list, Roman. You shouldn’t be here,” Claire says to Rome before taking a seat across us.
“No, but I found a way around that, didn’t I? Or we wouldn’t be having this lovely heart-to-heart,” Rome retorts sarcastically, squaring his shoulders as if he were about to engage in battle.
However, Rome’s enemy is far from being eager to confront him. Claire always looked so poised and elegant whenever I saw her, usually wearing a bubbly, genuine smile on her face, and a sweet word on the tip of her tongue. Apart from the hideous orange jumpsuit she’s wearing, the thing that really tarnishes her beauty is the once-joyful light—that dwelled within her gorgeous, blue eyes—being replaced with a substance she’s eager to spit at the man beside me—pure venom.
“I’m not surprised. You Graysons always think you’re above the law and everyone around you. It’s sickening how you use your mother’s legacy for your own gain,” she spouts out at him, her disdain even ghastlier than the color she’s adorned with.
“I’ll have you know that I have never broken any law or used my mother’s foundation to obtain anything for myself! Never!” Rome shouts in outrage, slamming his clenched fist onto the table, his nostrils flaring with indignation.
The loud ruckus gets the attention of one of the guards, which starts heading toward us, making me place one hand over Rome’s fist, and looping the other around his arm, my fabricated smile splitting my face in two to calm him down.
“Easy, Rome, or this conversation ends before it has the chance to begin. Easy, baby. Take a breath,” I order through my grinning teeth, sweetly nodding to the guard, conveying that all is well.
Rome takes a long intake of breath, leaning closer to me for added comfort, but his back stiffens when Claire begins to shake her head at me disapprovingly.
“I’m so disappointed in you, Holland. Can’t you see he’s not the man Craig would have wanted for you?” Claire announces out of the blue, taking me by surprise.
“You’re wrong, Claire. As with so many other things, you’re wrong on that matter, too. My father didn’t know me well enough to say who was worthy of being at my side. But my real family, the one that has always stood by me and loves me, loves Rome just as much because they know he makes me happy. They know that he is a good man, even if his father wasn’t,” I add the last part, knowing it will cause the most damage. “Don’t you dare put the sins of a father on his son’s shoulders. It isn’t fair and it isn’t right. Or would you like people to assume your children are criminals just because you are?”
Her scolding features lessen a bit, but when Rome opens his mouth, they mar her face once more.
“Why are you so worried about me dating Craig West’s daughter now, when a few years ago, you were more than happy to pack a sleeping bag for Addison to spend her nights with me?” Rome counters with a hateful snarl to his lips.
The image of them together has me unconsciously piercing my nails into his forearm. He sees the error of his remark right away, but Claire isn’t so quick to forgive.
“I never gave her my blessing to date you. Not once. That was all the senator’s doing. Charles was the one who pushed my daughter into that damned Grayson nest of yours. I never wanted her there. Why do you think I always insisted you came to us? Because I knew exactly what evil dwelled in that house of horrors and I hated that my baby thought the only way to earn my husband’s love was to seduce you,” she spits through grinding teeth, low enough for the guard to miss, but certain that we record every word to memory.
“But I’m the one to blame. For a minute there, I honestly believed that you cared for my Addison. That you wouldn’t let her fall into his evil hands. Not only did you not protect her, but you also vilified her for getting entangled with that predator. In my book, you are just as much to blame for what happened to my baby as your father.”
“Is that why you went out of your way to frame me? Why you paid that nurse and the coroner to lie? Why you sent your goons to beat me up every day in that hellhole of a prison? Do you hate me that much, that you’d let an innocent man rot behind bars and serve a punishment for a crime he never committed?”
“Don’t act all high-and-mighty with me, Roman. You might have fooled this poor girl next to you, but you never fooled me. I mean, just look at you! You’re the spitting image of that monster. How could you not have the same malignant soul?”
Rome bites his tongue and leans back in his chair as if Claire just slapped him. I see his demons start to cloud his mind, old fears rising to the surface, so I decided to put an end to it immediately.
“You’re wrong, Claire. Rome is good. He has so much kindness inside of him that you’d weep at all he’s been able to overcome. I’m sorry for what happened to Addison, I truly am. But framing Rome the way you did, was cruel and criminal. You say that my father would be disappointed in me for choosing such a good, honest man to stand at my side, but I’m here to tell you, he’d be ashamed of all that you’ve done. I doubt you are the woman he fell in love with. How could you be?”
With my reprimand still hanging in the air, Claire suddenly becomes mute. There is a heavy silence between us, filled with rancor and hurt. As much as Rome needed to see Claire today, I’m not sure if he’ll get the closure he needs. All they seem to be doing is scratching at scabs that refuse to heal, opening deep, old wounds, and hoping to bleed each other dry.
“You said my father was a monster, and that evil lived back at the manor. Those are descriptive words to use, Claire. Don’t you think?” Rome questions, at last, slicing through the silence.
Claire thins her lips, her sudden, self-imposed vow of silence in effect.
“I always wondered what happened for you to stop coming over to our house when my mother died. I mean, you two seemed so close. When I was growing up, she referred to you as one of her dearest friends, if not her b
est friend. But the minute she passed, you no longer came to visit. Only hollow condolences on the day of her funeral, and then nothing. Not even the odd call to see how her children were doing. Why is that I wonder?”
Claire begins to shift in her seat, uncomfortable with Rome’s scrutinizing glower, but not once does she open her mouth to say a word.
“Did my father touch you? Rape you?” he asks, finally voicing the only conclusion that makes sense to him, to which Claire snaps her head up, outraged he would even suggest such a thing.
“That monster would never! I’m the senator’s wife, with a family legacy to back me up. If he’d dared to try, I’d ruin him,” she breaks, cursing the words.
“Addison, for all intents and purposes, was the senator’s daughter, with the same legacy to back her up, but that didn’t stop him.”
“That’s different. Charles always hated my daughter. She was a reminder of my infidelity. Or, if I’m truthful with myself, she was a reminder of how I had never grown to love him the way I still love Craig. Whatever ensued between my daughter and Malcolm, my husband would have turned a blind eye to it, and ordered her to do the same.”
“But you knew Judge Grayson could be capable of doing something so horrid. You didn’t bat an eye at Rome suggesting it even possible for him to do so. Why?” I ask, my own alarm bells ringing.
“My mother confided in you, didn’t she?” Rome chimes in apprehensively.
Claire swallows dryly, her eyes zigzagging all over the room just to deflect Rome’s confrontation.
“She told you he was abusing her, raping her, and you did nothing,” Rome whispers in horror, his own emotions taking the better of him.
“That’s not true! I told her to leave him. I did,” she pleads genuinely, placing both her open palms on the table. “I was in Vermont with Charles and the kids for Thanksgiving when she called me and admitted all the nightmarish things he had done to her over the years.
“I knew people thought Eleanor was just another pill-popping socialite, but I always thought her use of recreational drugs was to cope with something that was haunting her. Something she couldn’t escape from on her own. She had changed from the vibrant, sweet girl I grew up with in college, to an empty vessel with no spark to light her up. The only thing that brought a sliver of her former self was when she was with her children.