by K. I. Lynn
“How did you know?”
A chuckle left him. “Your naiveté of my family amuses me.”
“It’s just a very different type of family than I’m used to.” My expression fell, and in that brief fraction of a second, my dad’s face popped into my mind. I missed him and the family I was cut off from when he died.
“They’re your family now as well, you know.”
Dozens of de Loughrey names and faces tumbled in my mind, burying me. From a family of five to one of nearly five hundred with all the cousins? It would definitely be an adjustment. But, at the same time, I kind of liked it. They were dysfunctional, and all had issues, but they were Atticus’s, and now mine.
He pulled out my chair before taking the one beside me.
“I’m looking forward to getting involved with this charity and others,” I said, smiling at him. It was the truth. If I was going to be part of the family, I couldn’t be sitting on the sidelines, hiding at the top of the tower with Atticus.
“Knowing that something this important to me matters to you. Thank you,” he said, his voice gruff. It held emotion that I wasn’t used to, and I loved every single speck he showed to me. I loved even more that they were coming out more and more frequently.
“Thank you all so very much for being here and to support our cause.” Georgiana’s voice floated through the speakers. “As you all may know, this charity is close to all de Loughrey hearts after the tragic death of my sister Adrianna. Accidental drowning takes thousands of lives a year. For every person we educate and encourage, it’s the chance of one less family having to go through what we were forced to face.”
Once again, I tried to recall where I’d seen or heard about her before. Her name sparked a memory, but I couldn’t understand why. In all my reading of the family, had I only seen it in passing? Such a tragic event would have been highlighted, but maybe I hadn’t gotten to it.
“Your cousin drowned?” I whispered to Atticus.
He only nodded, a solemn expression clouding his handsome features. I didn’t press for more. I couldn’t. I felt like it would only push him away, and that was the last thing we needed. For now, I would let it rest. For now.
The charity dinner was a success, and not just for the foundation. Ophelia was seen as more than what was portrayed on her night out with Gen. I was proud of her.
Shutting myself away had only created a friction that held her back from accepting my family, but I felt like she had opened up. The disconnect faded away as our connection tightened.
Being in a relationship, even one as undefined as ours, took more effort that I imagined, but somehow, with her, it almost felt effortless.
The more time we spent together, the more attached to her I became, to the point she had me texting her, just to keep a connection throughout the day.
Atticus : I’m going to be about an hour late. Will you wait and have dinner with me?
Ophelia : What do I get in return?
Atticus : I didn’t realize this was a negotiating request.
Ophelia : I mean, foot rub? Watch a movie with me? Maybe, just maybe, sit next to me on the couch?
A small chuckle left me. If that was what she wanted, I’d give it all to her.
Not that I would tell her that.
Atticus : That’s asking an awful lot.
Ophelia : No, asking a lot would be for me to ask you to cuddle me against your body while we watch a movie. But don’t worry, I won’t request your strong arms to hold me tight. I wouldn’t want to ask the wicked king for affection.
She topped it off with the kissy face emoji, but I ignored her sarcastic flirtation.
We’d been getting closer since she came back. I enjoyed our dinners together, and every day I found myself even more entranced by her than I was the day before.
Sitting on the couch with her as we talk about our days had become the highlight of my evenings. Simple, yet comforting in a way I had never experienced before.
Over the last few weeks, I had enjoyed our breakfasts together. She didn’t have to get up with me as it was often as the sun crested the horizon, but it warmed me to see her smiling face over the mug of coffee her hands were always wrapped around.
The nectar of the gods, she called it.
When I entered the great room the night before, I’d faltered in my step, struck by the smile on her face. It was so large and genuine and lit up her face.
My cold, dead heart thawed a little more each time she looked at me like that.
“You’re in an uncharacteristically good mood,” Holly said with narrowed eyes as she stared me down.
I schooled my expression to my negative neutral position. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She rolled her eyes at me before hopping onto the edge of my desk. “Things are going better, huh?”
“With?”
She rolled her eyes. “Do I have to play dentist with you? Just admit to me you have feelings for her.”
“And I should admit that to you because?”
“Because I’m Holly.”
“And that gets you special favors?”
“Come on, Att,” she whined and stomped her feet.
A small chuckle left me. “Fine. I want her. Truly want her. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
She hemmed and hawed before giving me a stink eye. “What I wanted was to hear you say how much you’re in love with her and how you want her forever and ever.”
I stared at her and her twinkling, hopeful, expression. “No.”
The elation fell from her face, and she grabbed my shoulders and gave me a light shake. “Why do you have to be such a suck?”
“Because what is between Ophelia and myself is between us.”
“But I’m me!”
“Yes, and if one day I have the feelings you spoke of, I will tell her before anyone else.”
“You’re a party pooper, Atticus de Loughrey.”
“Am I supposed to be offended by that?”
A sigh left her. “By the way, your ten o’clock is here.”
I glanced to the clock—it was ten after. Normally it would have angered me if an appointment was late to start, but I didn’t mind for him.
“You’re just now telling me?”
She smiled and nodded. “I’m letting him stew.”
“Why are you doing that?”
“Because he’s in trouble.”
I narrowed my eyes on her. “How do you know that?”
“Because unless it is Hamilton, Rhys, Elizabeth, or your father, they’ve done something wrong and are about to get their ass handed to them by their king.”
I scoffed at that. She wasn’t wrong. Not often did a member of the family come to me for anything other than to be reprimanded in some form.
“Show him in.”
“You got it, boss,” she said as she pushed off the edge of my desk.
My jaw twitched, and I was not looking forward to having to deal with this bullshit.
Hugo had gotten another indication that Preston was looking to have a rendezvous with a woman that wasn’t his wife. Elizabeth could take care of herself, but I didn’t want to see her hurt because her husband was attempting to fuck another woman. Knowing her, what I was about to say to him would be a walk in the park compared to what she would do.
“Atticus, how are you today?” Preston said with a smile as he stepped in.
I refused to even look up from my desk, letting his discomfort continue to climb. “I would like to remind you of your vows to my sister,” I said, wasting not a precious second with frivolities getting to the point. There was no time for dancing around issues.
His expression was hidden due to my ignoring his presence, but his silence spoke volumes.
“I don’t know if you’ve broken them yet, but do know your hotel reservation has been canceled.”
“Atticus, I—”
My gaze snapped to him and he froze, his brown eyes widening at my expression. “Not another word,” I seethed
. “Don’t forget, brother, there are consequences for certain actions. I’m giving you this one warning. There will not be another before I rip your wife and children from you and ruin every single person in your family. You are not to speak to this girl again. Her name and number have already been stripped from your phone.”
“Atticus.”
I stopped him. “Don’t. Go home and spend some time with your pregnant wife.”
“I’m not under your control!” he shouted. “You have no right to interfere with my life.”
I narrowed my gaze at him, taking note of how he froze again, and the fight drained from him, his throat bobbing in a hard swallow. Preston held the confidence of most aristocrats. The thought that he could get away with whatever he wanted and was untouchable. To be told what to do went against every fiber of his being.
It made no difference that he was not a de Loughrey by name or blood. He married into the family. The blood of the de Loughreys ran through his children’s veins.
“Do not speak to me with that self-righteous indignation. Did you think, because I am not my grandfather or father, that because we have been friends our whole life, that I will not cut you down? You married into this family. It was explained to you that actions have consequences. We are not some family that lets frivolous egos run rampant.”
“You’re a bunch of stuck-up, cold bastards,” he spat back. His hits had so little force, his will was easy to bend.
“And you’re a spoiled little boy. Man the fuck up, and take responsibility for your family. Do one more thing out of line, and I will destroy you,” I seethed in warning. I would not forgive another outburst.
His teeth mashed together, but he remained silent. Rage shook in his hands, but it seemed his brain was holding back his ego before the consequences became dire.
“Have you fallen out of love with your wife? Is that why you seek comfort in a younger pussy?”
“No.”
“Good. Then either seek that comfort with your wife or use your fucking hand until she’s ready, but do not make the mistake again of looking for something outside of your marriage. I’m always watching, Preston. Never forget that.”
He gave a curt nod, anger radiating off him, but he swallowed his defeat and fled from my presence.
With a sigh, I threw my pen down and rocked back in the chair. Elizabeth would be devastated if she knew, but she was never going to know her husband was even looking at another woman. My way was also better for Preston in the long run because I knew my sister, especially in her current state, would have no issue castrating him.
I spent the next few hours in a string of meetings and conference calls. It was late in the afternoon when Damien, my head of security, called.
“Damien?”
“So the Milner guy.”
“Yes?”
“In jail for extortion and various other infractions.”
A small sense of relief shed some of the tension from my body.
“Good. And?”
“And he’s been fired from his job. Bail has been set, but I made sure it was high enough to be a hurdle.”
I’d kept Ophelia as far away from her stepfather as best I could, even going so far as to make sure there was no way he could get in contact with her. She’d expressed her trepidation when her sisters called, thinking they might have been put up to it by their parents since I’d blocked their numbers, but she said her youngest sister couldn’t fake the fear she heard in her voice.
The moment she said that, I knew he’d found a new target for his anger, and I ripped those children from his care. Ophelia’s happiness over her sisters being safely away from that piece of shit had flowed out of her. That level of relief told me one thing—I was going to bury the man.
It wasn’t something she talked about, but more than once she’d told me he’d hit her before, and my investigation revealed it wasn’t an uncommon thing. She was too strong to be broken, especially by a weak drunk of a man, but still, it fractured her. Knowing your mother chose a man over her own child had to be devastating, but she’d persevered.
My own mother may not have had a high degree of affection, but she’d put the five of us above everything. Even with all the nannies, she’d been highly devoted to her children, even if her expression of love was different than most.
I didn’t want our children to have either of our upbringings. I was going to shower them with affection and show their mother the same care. They would learn what love was from the moment they came into the world, even if their father was still learning himself.
I stared down at my buzzing phone and the name that flashed across the screen. Panic shot through me and I quickly fumbled with the phone to answer, then drew in a deep breath to settle myself.
“Hello?” I answered, hoping I came across as calm and collected when I was a bundle of knots.
“As reluctant as I am that my son has chosen you, it does not change the fact that in seven short months, you will be married,” Vera said. Her tone was just as terse and clipped as when we’d first met, and I wondered if that was just a de Loughrey trait. “That being said, I have already reserved venues.”
“Already? But I haven’t even gotten to look at any.” In truth, the wedding had been far from my mind.
“There are few places that can hold an event of this size, so options are limited.”
“Of what size?” The largest wedding I’d ever attended was around two hundred.
“A thousand.”
I choked on my sip of water, nearly spitting it out all over my computer. I coughed to clear my throat, my voice coming out coarse and stunted. “A thousand?”
“Over three hundred are de Loughreys.”
“Three hundred?”
“Honestly, Ophelia, must you parrot everything I say?”
“I’m sorry. I’m just stunned. I didn’t think we’d even have three hundred total.”
An amused laugh danced across the line. She was laughing at me, at my naiveté.
“Sadly outside of a horrid sports arena, our options are limited, and nothing will hold the current total. I have no idea how I’m to cull the list down to only five hundred.”
Only. I was flabbergasted. I knew we were getting married, I just hadn’t thought about the actual wedding. Atticus said January and I thought nothing more of it, but it was obvious by her call she wanted some input.
Or to tell me what my colors were going to be. With her take-charge attitude on the event, that was a possibility.
“And where is this enormous ceremony being held?”
“Atticus didn’t tell you?”
“No.”
She made a hmph sound. “Not surprising. The Plaza, dear. We’ve reserved the entire hotel.”
“Like all their spaces.”
“No. The entire hotel.”
My mouth dropped open. “You can do that?”
“Of course we can. We’re de Loughreys. All I had to do was reserve every room for wedding guests as well as utilize the grand ballroom and all the other rentable spaces.”
“What happened to the people who had reservations already?”
Another scoffing sound. “They were compensated.”
“Why?” I asked. Why would she do all of that for just a wedding?
“The head of the family will only marry once. It will be the grandest occasion the city has seen in decades. An event to rival the weddings of British royals in people’s minds. My son is, after all, the king of our family, and the de Loughreys are US royalty.”
My mind skipped over the second part of what she said, instead sticking on the first.
The head of the family will only marry once.
“I’m sending you some papers to look over for your opinion. We will talk later,” she said before the line went dead.
The head of the family will only marry once.
It echoed in my mind, repeating over and over. A sudden burst of desperation had me clawing for my laptop. I pulled up the internet
and typed in my question.
Have any de Loughreys divorced?
I clicked on the first article. It was a history of the family.
The family is known for a low divorce rate. Only three divorces have happened since the first in 1965. None of the divorces happened within those in the upper echelon of the company and family. It is said that divorce is forbidden in the core group, especially the head of the family.
Forbidden? What did that mean, then?
“I’m home, my dear,” Atticus called out as I was sitting on the couch, scrolling through wedding ideas.
I wasn’t hating it as much as before, probably due to my growing affection for the brooding man.
I glared at him as he rounded the corner, earning a smirk. He knew I couldn’t stand his overly proper and sardonic pet name.
“Do you do that just to see my eye twitch?”
“Do what?” he asked with the most innocent expression I’d ever seen on his face. His eyes were wide, eyebrows raised, but he had trouble hiding his mirth.
My lips formed a thin line, and I rolled my eyes.
He surprised me by sitting on the couch, and even more so when he leaned over and grabbed my ankle. I cried out, my eyes wide as I watched him pull my leg out from under me until I’d twisted from my position with my legs out straight and sitting on his lap.
I blinked at him in stunned silence. Not only did he pull an affectionate move, but he put my feet on his expensive suit. They were clean and all, as I hadn’t done anything but walk around the condo after my shower and the maids made certain there wasn’t a speck of dirt or dust anywhere, let alone on the floors.
It was more than a small victory.
A hum rumbled in his chest and he closed his eyes, his thumb making small circles on my ankle. After a few deep breaths, he looked over to me.
“Better?”
I felt the heat rise in my cheeks, and I nodded. My text had been a half joke thinking he would never do any of it, and he did. What I think surprised us both was the obvious effect it had on him.
“Better?” I asked in return.
His other hand ran up my bare leg just past my knee, leaving a trail of heat as his hand rested on my thigh.