“Yeah. We’re meeting tomorrow to discuss paternity testing and custody arrangements.” He frowned at my expression. “What? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I swallowed. “Be careful with him.”
Griffin frowned. “Why?”
I hesitated, old wounds aching beneath the surface. “He’s ruthless. Brilliant, but ruthless. And he works for my father, not for you.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means...” I took a deep breath, steadying myself. “It means he’ll do whatever it takes to please Julian, regardless of who gets hurt in the process.”
“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”
I stared at the countertop, tracing a water ring with my fingertip. “He handled my parents’ divorce. It wasn’t pretty.”
That was the polite version.
I was fourteen when the fighting started in earnest, though in hindsight, it had probably been brewing long before I ever noticed.
“Steele made sure everyone saw my mother as unstable,” I said, voice even. Detached. “By the time it was over, Steele had secured full custody for my father, and my mother was lucky to get visitation rights. The public saw exactly what he wanted them to see: a stable, devoted father stepping in to save his daughter from a mother who couldn’t cope.” I released a humorless laugh. “Steele even arranged for me to live with my aunt for a while. He called it ‘shielding me from the stress.’ In reality, he was just clearing the board so he could win the game.”
For the first time since I’d arrived, he looked like he might actually be afraid.
“I just want to do right by Hazel. Make sure she’s taken care of.”
“Then don’t sign anything Steele puts in front of you without a second opinion.”
He nodded slowly. “I won’t. Thanks for the warning.” Griffin tipped his glass back, swallowing what was left of his wine. “The whole thing is a mess. Isolde’s gonna?—”
His whole body stilled. The kind of stillness that wasn’t natural for him, like the moment before a crash when everything suspends in midair. His gaze snapped to mine, sharp, assessing.
I blinked. “Isolde. IsoldeCallaghan?”
Jesse Callaghan’s sister.
Shit. The gossip brigades would happily eat up that drama if it ever got out.
His grip tightened around his glass. “Fuck.”
“I won’t say anything.”
He studied me for a long moment, clearly trying to decide if I was lying.
“I’m here for Hazel. Not to gossip about your personal life. Whatever happened with Isolde Callaghan isn’t my business.”
“If this gets out?—”
“I know.”
Griffin huffed out a tired laugh. “Well, that’s one way to ruin a perfectly good bottle of Barolo.”
I picked up my glass, swirling the last sip. “And here I thought the company was the problem.”
That startled another soft, almost genuine laugh from him.
I shouldn’t have liked the sound of it. Shouldn’t have noticed the way his eyes crinkled at the corners.
I drained my glass and stood. “I’ll check on Hazel.”
