by Raquel Belle
Celeste was pacing, showing her growing agitation, something Abby had never seen before. “Things seemed to work well enough. Our image remained pristine, and your father continued in his success—our success because he would have gotten nowhere without me or my family’s money.” She let out a hiss. “Imagine my surprise when years later I found out that Caleb was still secretly carrying on with his mistress. Seven years later! Not only that, but she was pregnant again. He came to me so repentant, and again, I had to preserve our image. It was like what happened with you all over again. Before I knew it, I was raising both of Caleb’s bastard children.”
With her jaw practically touching the floor, Abby gaped at the still-pacing Celeste. It was like she’d just heard the plot of a very bad soap opera. This was her life. It was an honest to god soap opera. “Why did you two even get married?”
With a sigh, Celeste shrugged. “Your father was very handsome and so charismatic. He came from humble beginnings, which automatically made him unsuitable for me. My parents forbade our relationship. I got caught up in the excitement of a forbidden romance, and I knew Caleb could be great with a little push and financial backing. I was right. It was good for a while but the passion quickly fizzled out. I stopped caring about his mistresses. As long as he was discrete, I lived with it.”
Mistresses? Her father, whom Abby thought was the perfect human being, was an adulterous cad. The woman she thought was her mother wasn’t. Abby’s world was crumbling right there on the plush carpet.
Celeste laughed. “Getting a mistress pregnant twice was not discrete.”
“I … if he had stayed with her ... my mother for so many years, maybe he loved her. Why didn’t you just divorce him?”
Her eyes narrowed on her. “You naïve, little girl. Your father loved no one but himself and his two spawn. I have to say, he loved my Elaina as well. You continue to think your father was a saint? Think again. When I demanded he get rid of his whore once and for all, he didn’t hesitate. He, too, was caught up in his status in high society.”
“G-get rid of …? What do you mean?” If Celeste admitted to something crazy like her father killing her mother, Abby was certain she would lose her shit. With all she’d learned, that scenario would fit right into the soap opera storyline.
“We paid her off, and she was all too happy to take the money. She didn’t even want you or your brother,” Celeste said. “God, the amount of money and threats it took to keep everyone who knew the truth about you and your brother quiet was staggering.” She shook her head. “I took you in and raised you. You lived a great lifestyle because of my generosity. You owe me everything.”
“I don’t owe you a thing. I didn’t beg to be taken in and raised by you. As a matter of fact, I might have been better off without all of your negative energy and resentment clouding my childhood.”
Celeste moved so fast that Abby didn’t see the blow coming until pain exploded on her left cheek. Wide-eyed and cupping her burning face, she staggered backward.
“Ungrateful bitch!” Celeste said. “After all I’ve done for you, you should be begging to help me. I actually started to think there was hope for you when you agreed to help me destroy Coldwell. I was beginning to think I hadn’t wasted my time pretending you were mine.”
Eyes watering, more from emotional than physical pain, Abby whirled around and scampered towards the door. The strength to fight with Celeste had evaporated, leaving her defeated and in despair. She couldn’t believe she’d fallen for the heartfelt story Celeste fed her about naming her when she was born. Sick to her stomach, she barely made it outside before emptying her stomach behind an immaculately trimmed shrub.
***
The hand lightly and awkwardly patting her shoulder nearly made Abby laugh. That and a hesitant, “There, there, stop with the water works,” would have sent her into a fit of giggles if she wasn’t so distraught. Elaina’s awkward comforting only got worse the more Abby cried.
“Abby, come on,” she said. “I’m not good at this kind of thing. You’ve been crying for hours. Just stop.”
Abby hiccupped. “I can’t. How long have you known? About Wyatt and me?”
“About four years now,” Elaina said. “I heard mom and daddy arguing and couldn’t help eavesdropping. Those two sure argued a lot. They must’ve had the worst marriage in the history of marriage. Mom caught me listening in and she terrorized me into keeping my mouth shut. I was tempted to tell you a few times, especially when we fought. I feel terrible about that.” With another huff, she smoothed Abby’s hair out of her face. “You really should stop crying, you look awful.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Sorry,” Elaina said.
“Look, just because I offered you a place to stay, doesn’t mean you have to comfort me. I’ll be fine.” After Elaina had revealed the truth about Abby’s parentage—which led to Abby confronting Celeste—she begged to stay at Abby’s apartment for a few days until Celeste cooled down. She would, without a doubt, strangle her daughter for spilling the family secret. Abby knew she’d go crazy having her sister in her apartment but it was the least she could do. When Elaina wasn’t being mean to her, she had her rare moments of kindness, and Abby didn’t want her to have to face Celeste’s wrath alone or end up without a place to stay in a couple of days.
With a huff, Elaina disappeared. Padded footsteps announced her return. “Here, this will help.”
When Abby glanced up as something cold was pressed against her left cheek. Wincing, she gratefully accepted the pack of frozen peas. “So, this is what it takes for you to be nice to me,” she joked halfheartedly. “My entire life unraveling and getting beat up.”
Elaina snorted and plopped down beside her on the couch. “Oh, hush. You’ll survive. So, what? You found out that Celeste isn’t your mother and our father was a cheating scoundrel, you’ve still got your shit together, Abby. You have a job, your own place, money put away. I wouldn’t say your entire life is in shreds. I, on the other hand, am done for. Broke, homeless, and without even the prospect of a rich husband in sight.”
This time, Abby did laugh. A low chuckle that made Elaina smile. “Of course, you’d twist this around and make it about you.”
“Of course,” she grinned. “I know you think I’m a total bitch, Abby, but I really do feel bad that you found out about everything like this. I can’t imagine how you must feel. And I’m so sorry for hitting you earlier. I lost it. All those things I said, I’m sorry. I’m not going to lie…I was jealous of you growing up.” Elaina glanced around the small apartment. “I still am. You’ve always been so independent and sure of yourself. I always thought that as the oldest, I should be the one with everything figured out. But, you and Wyatt are the smart ones. Wyatt is most likely going to become some millionaire tech genius—that little nerd, and you’ll land some posh job doing boring artsy stuff. You two will be fine after this entire mess.”
Abby studied her sister carefully. It was the first time she’d seen her sister so vulnerable and honest. “You will be, too. I know we fight like cats and dogs, but I was hardly going to stand by and watch you live on the street and starve death.”
With a sad smile, Elaina patted Abby’s thigh. Laying back down and curling into a ball, Abby’s tears continued to slow as they sat in silence.
Abby’s eyes opened to the sound of pounding on her front door. She sat up to find Elaina curled up on the opposite end of the long couch. She too, opened her eyes. “What the hell is that?”
“Someone’s at the door,” Abby said, struggling to get up. She’d managed to cry herself into exhaustion. Beyond drained, she dragged herself to the door. Not bothering to find out who it was before yanking the door open, Abby gasped and slammed it shut. There was the unmistakable sound a few expletives on the other side of the door.
“Is it mom?” Elaina asked, biting her lower lip. “Oh my god, she’s come to wring my neck.”
“It’s not her.”
“A burglar? We’r
e not on our side of town after all.”
Rolling her eyes, Abby shook her head. “Sure, because a burglar is going to knock first. It’s Damian.”
Elaina sat up straighter. “Well, open the damn door. Aren’t you supposed to be playing his girlfriend?”
“You really think I’m going to go ahead with that charade after Celeste’s bombshell?”
Elaina shrugged. “We all want Daddy’s company back, maybe …”
“Shut up,” Abby said. “I can’t believe you right now.” Taking a breath, she reluctantly opened the door. The last thing she wanted was for Damian to see her red-faced, puffy-eyed and snot-nosed.
He scowled down at her in his usual manner. “What the hell was that all about, Abby? Don’t ever slam a door in my face …” He trailed off when he properly took in her appearance.
Chapter Seventeen
Damian
Damian’s anger seeped away as he took in Abby’s tear-stained face and puffy eyes. His eyes trailed over the discoloration marring her cheek. The fury that swept through him was incredible. Stamping down his rage, he took hold of her chin and tilted her head to study the bruise. If he wasn’t mistaken, there appeared to be the outline of fingers on her skin. Gritting his teeth, he demanded, “Tell me who did this.” He was ready to murder anyone who dared to hurt Abby. It was funny, since he was out to do more damage to her than a physical blow.
She pulled out of his grip, and he scowled harder. “It doesn’t matter. Why are you here?”
His brows shot up. “I believe we had a date. I called you several times without an answer. You were supposed to meet me …”
“Oh, no,” she said. “I’m sorry. I forgot.” She shoved her fingers through her hair. “I got caught up.”
“With whoever put that bruise on your face?” He stepped closer, to kiss her, or demand she tell him who put their hands on her. He wasn’t sure which but he froze. Sitting on Abby’s couch was someone he was neither thrilled nor expecting to see. “What’s she doing here?”
Elaina stood up and tilted her chin. “I’m her sister. I have more of a right to be here than you do.”
Bristling with anger, his gaze swung to Abby, whose shoulders were hunched. She was darting her eyes warily between him and Elaina. Once again, reining in his fury, he said, “We’re leaving, Abby.”
“Excuse me? You’re ordering me out of my own home?”
Damian’s jaws clenched. He couldn’t stand to spend another minute in the same room as the conniving Elaina. “Just get your coat and let’s go. Don’t make me throw you over my shoulder again.” Her mouth opened to protest, and he growled. “You stood me up. You’re going to make up for that.”
“You are so …”
“Arrogant. I know. You’ve mentioned it several times.” With one more hateful look directed at Elaina, he stepped back into the hallway. He fully expected Abby to obey unless she wanted to face the embarrassment of being carried out.
He didn’t have to wait long. She appeared minutes later wearing boots and her coat, along with a pout that made him smile. The drive to his place was quiet, and he didn’t bother striking up a conversation. Abby seemed to be a world away and he wondered why he hadn’t left her alone. His fingers formed a death grip around the steering wheel when he realized that it was because he wanted her with him. He craved her company when he was supposed to be losing interest by now. Analyzing his feelings were too much for him just then, so he refrained further mental dissections.
Abby was quiet even on the elevator, but she finally spoke when she stepped into his penthouse apartment. “May I?” She nodded towards the mini bar, which he kept fully stocked.
“Of course.”
Damian loosened his tie and sat down on one of the curved, beige sectionals to watch her. She moved around his place with an air of familiarity. She’d gotten accustomed to both his house and his apartment, and he found that he liked having her at his place. She approached with two glasses and handed one to him. He accepted the glass and when a whiff of his favorite bourbon filled his nostrils, he smiled. “Thank you.”
“I noticed that’s what you always drink.” She returned with her own faint smile and sat beside him.
“Observant,” he said. “Now, tell me about your evening. What in the world happened to you?”
“I didn’t come home with you to talk about that, Damian. I’m here because you ordered me to come and partly because I was afraid you and my sister would kill each other.”
Damian scowled and threw back his drink. After a few minutes of silence, he rose. “You will tell me what happened to you, Abby.” He had to know. He cared too much about her, and it frightened him. “I’m going to take a shower, and when I get back, you will talk.”
“Must you take that Lord of the Manor approach all the time? News flash, Damian, you’re not my ruler. I don’t have to talk to you about anything.”
Knowing that his next move would grate on her nerves, he hid his smile and playfully tugged her hair. “It’s cute that you think you can disobey me, Querida. But, you know I always get my way because I am Lord of the Manor.”
Her eyes flashed pure fire, as he knew they would. It was comforting to see that she wasn’t as defeated as she appeared. With a taunting laugh, he left her alone, but he caught the hissed insult she threw his way and laughed harder.
As soon as Damian closed the bathroom door, his amusement vanished. Wiping a hand over his face, he took a deep steadying breath. His final act of vengeance was underway. There wasn’t supposed to be any guilt. So, what was going on with this irritating show of conscience?
“Damn it all to hell,” he said and whipped his phone out of his pocket.
Joe answered on the first ring. “Damian.”
“Joe, I’m sorry for calling this late.”
“Not a problem. What’s going on? Should I be in lawyer mode or friend mode?”
“Both,” Damian said.
“Shoot.”
“I might have been too hasty when I told you to go ahead and give that reporter everything.” It was the only way he could ensure Caleb and Celeste Aldridge’s deeds got full exposure. Caleb was a criminal with his wife standing behind him all the way and the world needed to know. It was the best way to clear his father’s name once and for all. Not only his father but the Coldwell name. He didn’t give a damn about the looks he received from others—the barely veiled criticism—was he a scammer like his old man? Did he build his empire by stealing from others? The only person he really felt bad for was his mother. Arlet had received those looks for years and suffered being disowned by her own family. It was bad enough falling in love with and running off with a man deemed unsuitable, but to have him turn out to be a criminal…both Arlet and her child were, for the most part, excommunicated from the family.
There was a long release of breath followed by silence. Joe cleared his throat. “First, you want to save the Aldridge mansion, and now this …”
“I don’t need this shit from you right now, Joe.” Damian massaged the bridge of his nose. It was official. He was losing his mind—developing feelings for a woman he had no business feeling anything for, wavering on years of planning. It was pure insanity. “Look, I’m just asking that you put a hold on things for at least a few days.” Until Abby recovered from whatever devastation she was experiencing. “I’d do it myself, but my name can’t be linked to the story.”
“Because people might think your only motive is to destroy Caleb’s legacy because you hate him?” Joe asked.
“Yes.”
“Even though that’s exactly what the situation is?”
Damian scowled. “You know, Joseph, if you weren’t my friend and so damn good at your job, I would fire your ass.” A responding chuckle followed and he gritted his teeth.
“I’m sure I can delay the release of all the juicy tidbits by a couple of days.”
“Thank you.”
“Uh huh,” Joe said. “It’s the girl again isn’t it?”
He wasn’t sure how long he stood under the steaming cascade of water with his head bowed as he mentally berated himself for becoming so weak. It was a hell of a time to develop a conscience—when he was almost through with his quest. The soft hiss of the glass door sliding open startled him. His head snapped up to see Abby, fully naked stepping into the stall with a small smile.
“Want company?” she asked. “You’ve been in here a while, and I got lonely out there by myself.
Damian’s eyes swept her slight frame with instant hunger. He was unable to resist the allure of his red-haired witch no matter what mood he was in. “I can always do with your company, especially if you’re naked.”
Her palms slid over his chest and the slight gesture brought on fierce arousal. He stood still, allowing her to touch him, enjoying the feeling like butterfly wings dancing across his skin. An area of discoloration on her shoulder caught his attention, and he swore. “For Christ’s sake, Abby, were you in some kind of a brawl?” He slid his fingers over the small bruise.
She giggled. “It’s nothing. Elaina and I got into a spat. We fight all the time. You’d think we were kids and not grown women. Plus, my skin bruises so easily.”
Her nonchalance did nothing to ease his anger. “That bruise on your face looks like more than a spat.”
“Oh, this …” She palmed her cheek, her eyes clouding with sadness that he wished he could take away. “This was someone else. After Elaina and I got into a spat, my mother, Celeste, well…we got into a spat.” She shrugged and smiled faintly. “Needless to say, I’ve had one hell of an evening.”
Letting out a breath, and putting aside his desire to wrap his hands around Celeste’s neck, he caught Abby’s hands and pulled her closer. “Your family is insane. Does this kind of abuse happen often?”