"I found that very, very interesting. So I made a call and looked into you." He glances my way briefly. "Like I told you I would."
"I didn't care then, and I don't care now." I open my laptop, input my password, and turn it to him. "Look through it. Look through every single file. My personal email, and my work email too."
"That won't be necessary," Duke says smoothly. While I might never lay a hand on Sally the nepo baby, I have no qualms about punching my brother-in-law in his square jaw. "Your dad is not the cleanest ofshowmen."
His sentence is enough to disorient me. Duke's use of that fanciful term my dad prefers makes my blood run cold. "What are you talking about?"
"Are you working together?"
There's no schooling my reaction anymore. I am fucking furious. "Working together on what?" My molars bite together. I wish it were only Duke's accusation making this fury roll through my body, but there's a second emotion riding the coattails of my anger.Fear. It takes these already unpleasant feelings and adds acid to them.
My dad would never outright do anything criminal, but he is foolish enough to be unwittingly dragged into something.
I moved all the way across the country to put distance between myself and my dad's antics. I went to therapy to deal with the emotional fallout of an unstable home. But here I am, years later, still dealing with the ramifications of my father.
I close my laptop. "My dad isn't a bad man, but he is an idiot sometimes. He means well, but the shiny idea of getting rich quick has always lured him in. I distanced myself from him a long time ago, and even though I still see him, I am not privy to what he does on a day-to-day basis. So, Duke, while Iunderstand you are motivated to protect your family's interests, please hear me loud and clear when I tell you to fuck off."
My heartfelt expletive does not shake Duke. "Do you want me to tell you what I found?"
"I do not. My dad can tell me himself, or, you know what? Not at all. Because it has no bearing on me, or my life, or what I do." Without additional fanfare, I stand up and walk away. On the outside, I am calm. On the inside, I am enraged.
What has my father done now?
CHAPTER 49
Cecily
Dom has beenon the phone since he returned from his meeting. I stayed in bed while he was gone, hoping he would slide in beside me and ravage me when he returned.
No such luck.
He walked into the suite with a furrowed brow and air of frustration, kissed my temple, and told me he needed to call his dad. I watched him step out onto the little outdoor covered porch, back muscles taut and posture stiff.
Lustful plan delayed, I rise from the obscenely comfortable bed and use the en suite coffee maker. To grant Dom privacy, I keep my back to him. Considering I keep peeking over my shoulder to check on him, I give myself a solid grade of C in the privacy department.
When my first cup of coffee is drained, I make a second and, thanks to my bold peeking, see that Dom is off the phone.
"Hey," he says, poking his head around the open door. "Do you want to drink that out here with me?"
Relief fills me. He doesn't sound upset.
I follow him out, settling into the chair beside his. Early morning birdsong reaches us from the pines, and larger birds swoop over the glistening lake, looking for breakfast.
"Is everything ok?" I ask without looking at him. Like me, Dom's feelings when it comes to his parents are complicated.
"Yes, but for a moment I wasn't sure it was," he says haltingly.
His tone draws my gaze to him. He sits back in his chair, an ankle crossing over his opposite knee. Far more relaxed than when he first stepped out here.
"Do you want to tell me about it?" I sip my coffee.
"I ran into Duke this morning. Sort of. He was waiting for me after my meeting."
My eyes narrow. "Why?"
"He looked into me, like he said he would. He said you told him we were drunk when we got married." Dom's gaze briefly meets mine, confused but not accusatory.
"Kerrigan let it slip."
