“I said sit down!” Roman’s voice is a roar. He surges to his feet, knocking his chair backward with a crash. Elena flinches but doesn’t move. Doesn’t run. Just stands there, facing him down for maybe the first time in her life. I realize this is it. This is the moment everything breaks open.
I start to push back from the table, ready to move, ready to put myself between them. But Saint’s hand stops me. She’s looking at me with those dark blue eyes, and I can see the fear there. The plea.
Don’t. Not yet.
She’s right. If I move now, Roman’s attention will shift back to me. Back to Saint. Better to let him focus on Elena. Better to let this play out.
Kade is still sitting frozen, his face a mask of shock and pain and betrayal. The news about his mother has gutted him. I can see it in every line of his body, in the way he’s holding himself like he might shatter if he moves.
Roman moves toward Elena, and she takes a step back.
“You want to defend Emma Porter?” Roman’s words are slurred now, his movements loose with alcohol. “You want to stand up for the woman who tried to steal from me? Who thought she was better than me?”
“She was better than you,” Elena says quietly. “She still is.”
The slap comes fast. Elena’s head snaps to the side, the sound echoing through the dining room. She stumbles, then catches herself on the edge of the table. Blood trickles from the corner of her mouth where Roman’s ring catches her lip.
“Don’t talk about things you don’t understand,” Roman says.
“I understand perfectly.” Elena touches her mouth, looks at the blood on her fingers. “You’re a monster. You’ve always been a monster. And you raised our sons to be monsters too.”
“Mom,” Sawyer says, his voice strained.
Elena doesn’t look at him. Doesn’t look at any of us. She keeps her eyes on Roman, and there’s something defiant in her gaze now. Something that’s been buried for so long I’d forgotten it existed.
“Kade is Emma’s son,” she continues. “And you stole him from her. You’ve tormented him his whole life, making him work for approval that you knew you’d never give. Making him hate his own heritage. Now you’re telling him the truth, only so you can hurt him further. You’re using him like a tool.”
“He is a tool.” Roman’s voice is cold. Flat. “You’re all tools. Weapons I’ve forged to do what needs to be done, and when tools break, when they betray me…” He looks at me. “They get discarded.”
Kade makes a sound. Something between a sob and a laugh. “Emma Porter is my mother.”
“Yes.”
“And you took me from her. Raised me to hate her. To hate her family. To—” He stops, runs his hands through his hair. “Jesus Christ. Allie. Allie’s my sister.”
“Half sister,” Roman corrects. “Different parents. Though Emma did adopt her, so I suppose technically?—”
“Shut up.” Kade’s voice is low. Dangerous. “Just shut the fuck up.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” Kade stands, his chair crashing to the floor behind him. His face is flushed, his hands shaking. “My entire life has been a lie. Everything you told me. Everything you made me believe about myself. About my place in this family. It’s all bullshit.”
“Kade,” Roman says, his tone a warning.
“What? You going to hit me too? Going to remind me that I’m not a real Bishop? That I’m just Emma Porter’s bastard that you stole because you could?” Kade laughs, and it’s the most broken sound I’ve ever heard. “Go ahead. Do it. Add it to the list of ways you’ve destroyed me.”
Roman moves fast for a drunk man. His hand locks around Kade’s throat, slamming him back against the wall beside the china cabinet. The dishes rattle. Elena cries out. Saint’s nails dig into my palm hard enough to draw blood.
“You want to know why I never gave you the approval you craved?” Roman’s face is inches from Kade’s, his voice dropping to something quiet and vicious. “Because you’re not worthy ofit. You’re Emma Porter’s mistake. A reminder of the one woman who dared to refuse me. And every time I look at you, every time you open your mouth and beg for my attention like a fucking dog, all I see is her.”
Kade’s face is turning red. He claws at Roman’s hand, trying to breathe.
“You want to be a Bishop?” Roman continues. “You want that so badly? Then earn it. Stop whining. Stop questioning. Stop acting like you deserve something just because I let you carry the name.” He releases Kade suddenly, and he drops to the floor gasping. “But let’s be honest, we both know you’ll never earn it. At the end of the day, you’re not my son, not really. You’re hers, and that makes you weak.”
Kade stays on the floor, his hand at his throat, his eyes full of something that looks like death.
Roman has finally gone too far. Not with me. Not with the FBI betrayal. Not even with the revelation about Emma Porter. But with this. By stripping away the one thing Kade has clung to his entire life—the belief that he belonged. That he mattered. That he was worthy of the Bishop name.
