FORTY-NINE
JJ
“Lookat the bright side here. At least we can serve her now,” my father says as he settles on the couch in our living room.
By the time we were dressed, there was a swarm of reporters outside the brownstone.
I pace the living room, feeling trapped. We can’t even leave our damn house. Aiden snuck in through the back and got Vivi and the kids out of here. Avery is still with my mother. Thank fuck. Winnie and Hope are in the kitchen with Adeline, trying to keep her from freaking out.
Because yeah, this is bad.
Tabitha is using the photo of us last night as proof that I breached the fidelity clause of our prenuptial agreement. She seems to have forgotten the dozen or so affairs she’s had over the years. Never mind that we’re fucking separated so I can do whatever the fuck I want.
God, I hate the woman. It’s been months. She couldn’t find the time to talk to her daughter but somehow got a publicist and an attorney to fabricate this ridiculous story that Adeline and I have been having an affair for years.
She’s using pictures from the Olympics, alleging that she and I were already engaged and that while she was giving birth to our child, I was gallivanting around with Adeline. It’s absurd. But there’s justenough of the truth to push the narrative, and the narrative isn’t fucking good.
Fire burns in my veins. “I don’t want her served; I want her dead.”
Dad arches a brow. “You’ve done enough of that for now.”
I whip around, a strangled sound escaping me.
He merely chuckles. “You think I don’t keep tabs on you?” He shakes his head. “I would have done the same thing if someone hurt your mother.” He shrugs, nonchalant. “Hell, I did. But we’re not involving Frank in this.”
I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. “I just want her gone. Avery doesn’t even ask about her anymore. And Adeline doesn’t deserve this.”
“We can certainly agree on that.” Beckett stalks into the living room, and my heart rate skyrockets.
Shit. When did he get here?
In a button-down shirt, without a tie, and a pair of dark slacks, he’s all business, and he looks pissed.
He nods at my father in greeting before turning his glare on me. “Sit.”
“Beckett—”
“Sit,” he growls.
Exhaling, I drop to the couch beside my dad.
“You told me nothing was going on,” he says. His tone and his expression leave no room for stretching the truth.
“Nothing was going on when I told you that. But I’ve always had feelings for Adeline,” I say. “I think you know that. But she wasn’t open to anything so long as she was my coach.”
He drops his head back. “Fucking hell, it’s been going on that long? Tell me there’s no truth to what Tabitha is saying about the Olympics.”
I grunt, my lip curling. “I didn’t even know about Avery until after the Olympics. Tabitha and I never even dated.” I inhale, reining in what little control I still possess. “I only proposed to her after I thought Adeline had moved on.”
God dammit. I’m still so fucking angry at how stupid I was. How reckless. Mean.
I tried to punish the only woman I’ve ever loved by marrying someone else, and I fucked everything up.
Dad pats my knee, his touch soothing me just a fraction.
“Fine. Good. We’ll craft a statement denying everything. And you’ll move out,” Beckett says evenly.“Today.”
“What? No.” I launch myself to my feet.
