His jaw clenched. “That man is—well, was—my father. He wasn’t a good man. He was a monster.”
I blinked hard. “So your parents didn’t die in a car accident during a storm?”
“No. They didn’t. Not quite, at least.”
Of course. It made sense now. But the thought that followed came like a punch to my gut. My voice dropped. “Oh my God. Is he my father, too?”
It felt like the floor had dropped out from under me.
Daniel sat up fast and shook his head. “No. God, no. He’s not. It’s not like that. I swear.”
I frowned. “But Cynthia’s my mother. And she was married to him, wasn’t she?”
“Yes, but Cynthia isn’t my biological mother. My father married her after my mom died.”
I felt a sliver of relief. But just a sliver.
“Daniel, how could you?”
“I know. It’s a hell of a lot. But I can tell you everything. What happened that night. What happened before. After. Everything you want to know. And when I’m done, you decide what to do. Whatever the consequences are, I’ll take them.”
I crossed my arms. “Maybe you should start with why the hell my psychotic mother is locked in your goddamn basement like in some kind of horror movie.”
“I will,” he said. “But I need to back up a bit. If that’s okay.”
I nodded.
He stared out the window for a moment. The rain blurred the glass.
“I never really knew my mother,” he began. “Just scraps of memories. My third birthday. Balloons. A pony ride. One night, she read me a bedtime story after I had a nightmare and couldn’t stop crying.” His eyes met mine again. “They told me she drowned in a boating accident. So I wasn’t lying, not entirely, when I told you that the sea took my parents. It did take one of them. The one who really mattered. I still wonder if it was even an accident or if he pushed her, right off the yacht.”
His voice dropped to barely a whisper.
“But even if he did, he was Michael H. Winthrop. No one dared question him. Not with all the factories bringing money and jobs to the state. The campaign donations. The influence. The power.”
His gaze dropped.
“I’m so sorry.”
“My childhood wasn’t a loving one. I grew up here at the Breakers, mostly alone. Just Hudson and the staff. My father was gone most of the time, which I honestly preferred. His temper was violent. I used to wish the sea would take me too. So I could be with my mom. Far away from him.”
My hand found his.
“Then one day, he came back after nearly a year away. Your mom was with him. Cynthia, his new wife. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Eyes as green as grass. Heads turned everywhere she went. It made sense why he wanted to possess her.”
“Where was I?”
A faint smile lifted the corners of his mouth.
“At first, she was here alone. But then you showed up. Of course, my father hated you the second he saw you. You reminded him of her past. That she had a life before him. A man before him.”
My jaw clenched. Even then, I’d been hated.
“But forget that monster. The moment you stepped into the Breakers, my world changed. Everything got brighter. We did everything together. I taught you how to catch bugs, and you taught me how to make flower crowns. We played from morning until night. And when they left us for their European trips, we had each other. We were inseparable.”
He smiled, his fingers twitching as if he were flipping through snapshots in his mind.
“I never loved anyone like I loved you. I was just a kid, but to me, you were even more beautiful than your mother. You always stood up for me too. Always. I was two years younger. You were braver than anyone I knew. Even my dad couldn’t force you to do things you didn’t want to do. To this day, I don’t understand where you got that strength. Your mom and I were terrified of him.”
