At the name, Trent cursed.
“My brother?” I said with a shaky breath.
“He was never your real brother, sweetheart. He just duped your real father.” His voice tight, he gave my hand another gentle squeeze.
“I don’t understand. Why? How?” I was at a loss for the right words.
Mary arrived with a tray. She handed me a cup. “Drink up, love. It’s chamomile, it will help soothe that pain you’re carrying. “It’s a recent loss, isn’t it?” I stared at her, surprised by her perception, and nodded. “Time.” She palmed my cheek. The motherly gesture overwhelmed me and my eyes watered. She handed Trent a mug. “Coffee.”
“Thank you,” we both said together.
I looked at Trent. “What did you mean about Easton not being my brother?”
“Easton’s mother had an affair with your father. Filled with jealousy, Easton’s father kidnapped you the day you were born. Instead of hurting you like he promised his wife, he fell in love with you and raised you as his daughter but ill-treated his son. That made Easton jealous. He presented himself to your father and lied he was the result of your father’s affair with his mother. Your father, gentleman that he is, believed him and began treating him like a son. Then your father discovered you were alive when Easton’s mother, on her deathbed, sent your father a letter. Easton found out and planned your death.”
With each word Trent uttered, cold fingers of fear and shock wrapped themselves around my lungs, squeezing until I couldn’t breathe. Noting my struggle, he sat forward and rubbed my lower back.
“It’s over, sweetheart, no one is going to hurt you, ever. Zayne and I made sure of that.”
I frowned but the look on his face told me I shouldn’t ask him anything. With all the happenings surrounding Zayne, I’d neglected to ask what had gone down. I’d been too caught up in my misery of losing him to think about anything else. My love for Trent grew with each passing day and now looking at him I acknowledged just how good he was for me, and just how much he loved me in return. Not revealing those horrid details sooner meant he gave me time to grieve. I nodded, swallowing to gain back my control.
“Before Easton approached your father, he made you work for him,” Susan said.
“Work for him? How?”
Leaning back in her seat, her expression tense, I had the feeling I wouldn’t like what she was about to tell me. “He made you forge expensive paintings, which they sold on the black market.”
“What?” The cup rattled in the saucer I held. Trent took the china from my hand.
“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, Davina.” Susan gave me a small smile. “Easton belonged to a crime syndicate involved in the theft of artifacts and expensive artwork. When he discovered your talent for painting, he and his buddies decided to use you for their gain.”
“Oh, my God, I’m a criminal.” My hands trembled and my lungs closed for a second time.
“Not by choice,” Trent’s soft words caressed my anxiety. I looked at him and his gentle smile coaxed me to calm down.
“If that was the case, why didn’t I go to the police? Seek help?” I whispered, my heart in my mouth that I’d soiled beautiful art pieces with my skill.
“He threatened to kill your parents.” My shock must have registered on my face because she leaned forward and grasped my hand.
“They were his parents too?” I gasped.
She nodded. “He was involved with some rough people so scaring you into believing he’d kill them was easy for him until he decided to approach your real father and pretend to be his son.”
“Easton hired a killer to have your father incapacitated and you killed,” Trent added.
“Wow. This is all sounding like a dramatic crime movie and I’m the main character.” I shook my head, trying to drink it all in.
Noting my distress, he handed me the cup of tea. “Drink, Ash.”
Slowly, I sipped the tea, trying to digest everything I’d just heard. When I set the cup and saucer on the occasional table at my side, I looked at Susan. “How do you know all of this? Were we friends? How did you get my paintings?”
She smiled. “You agreed to do what Easton wanted, provided he allowed you to paint. He decided to make more money off you by selling your artwork. The first time he brought me your paintings, I fell in love with all five and it so happened that day we had an event here. Some tourists saw your paintings behind the counter as I hadn’t put them up yet and they asked if they could buy them. And that’s how I started selling paintings of an unknown artist until one day, two years later, you arrived here. We had tea, seated in these very chairs and you told me what happened. I wasn’t sure how to help because it meant putting you and your parents in danger. Then six months later, I stopped receiving your paintings and I couldn’t get hold of Easton.”
Hearing my past unfold, should’ve elicited a more passionate response than the simple deflated look on my face. I figured I owed my calm to Trent’s firm fingers laced with mine. The occasional squeeze as she spoke reminded me he was there for me and that I should just treat her divulgence as a story. It was Davina’s story, not mine. I was Ashrika Morrone and no longer possessed Davina’s mind, or past for that matter. Zayne asked me to write a new story and I had, with two beautiful men at the helm. Even with the slight edit that took one away from me, I still had one beautiful soul at my side. Trent and I had plenty of blank pages to fill. Not only had he given me freedom but love and two gorgeous children and I intended to lavish them with all the affection they’d missed from their mother.
When I could finally speak, I asked, “the paintings? Any reason why it always included a little girl in them. Did I ever mention anything?”
Susan nodded, her smile soft. “You mentioned that every time you closed your eyes, you would dream of a little girl. Each dream was different. Sometimes you two would walk in the park, sometimes sit on a swing together, and sometimes you would run in the fields. And every time you woke, you would paint a picture of that dream. The gestures of the little girl pointing, standing, sitting, smiling, looking for something in the paintings. It was you capturing her expressions of what you two did together.”
