“Why.” It isn’t a question. It’s a demand.
Tristan studies me for a long moment, then he smiles. Suddenly, his arrogance makes sense.
“Because,” he says calmly. “She was promised to me.”
The room goes still. Nick’s brows pull together. Elias takes a step forward. Maverick mutters under his breath.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
But Tristan doesn’t look at them. His eyes stay locked onto mine.
“She always was.”
I don’t flinch at the statement, but I can feel the wrath slithering under my skin.
“Always?”
He nods.
“Explain,” I grit out.
Tristan squares his shoulders, the movement pulling a grunt out of him when the ropes tighten.
“My father and Jack had an understanding,” he says simply, as if he’s reporting the weather.
“What kind of understanding?” I ask.
Tristan smiles again. “The kind powerful men make when they’re planning legacies.”
Nick scoffs behind me. “Cut the bullshit.”
Tristan ignores him. “Melissa couldn't have children,” he continues. “Everyone knew it. But appearances matter in families like ours.”
I crack my neck. I’ve seen firsthand just how important those appearances are to Melissa and Jack.
“So they made arrangements.”
Elias folds his arms. “Arrangements for what?”
Tristan looks straight at me. “For her.”
Everyone glances at one another.
“Melissa promised my father that when the time came, the girl they would bring into their family would be mine.”
My jaw ticks. “You’re saying they promised you Ashlynn before she was even adopted.”
Tristan nods once. “Exactly.”
I stand from the chair and pace the room. I want to snap this fuckers neck, to feel the bones crack beneath my fingers. But I need more.
“How could she promise a child she didn’t even have yet?” Nick asks for me, taking my place on the chair in front of Tristan. Mav and Elias watch me pace.
Once. Twice. Three times.
Tristan’s eyes follow me as I pace before he looks back at Nick.
“She already knew who the child was.”
