I want to push. I want to demand answers about who my father really is, what he did before he became the man I know. My whole life, there have been gaps in his history, questionshe deflected, topics that were off limits. I assumed it was just privacy. The natural reticence of a powerful man who didn't like to dwell on the past.
Now I'm wondering what else I don't know.
"We'll talk about it someday," Nicholas says, reading my expression. "When this is all over. When you and your girl are safe." He moves toward the door, then pauses with his hand on the knob. "For now, just know that I understand what you're going through better than you think. And I'm not going to let my son face it alone.”
"I understand."
"Good." He stands abruptly, smoothing the front of his jacket. "I'll take care of the body. Have it moved somewhere more secure. I have people who handle these things discreetly."
I stand as well, my legs feeling strangely unsteady. "Dad, I didn't ask for your help."
"No. You didn't." He turns to face me, and for a moment, I see something in his eyes I've never seen before. Pride, maybe. Or approval. "But you're my son. And we protect their own."
He walks toward the door, then pauses with his hand on the knob.
"The girl. Jade." He doesn't turn around. "Bring her to dinner next week. Your mother wants to meet her properly, without all the chaos of the cocktail party. And please avoid having sex in your mom’s library, can you do that?”
My cheeks start to burn.
“Jade’s back home in Boston,” I say clearing my throat.
"Then get her back." He opens the door, letting in a rush of salt air and morning light. "Whatever you have to do."
He leaves without another word, and I stand in the empty doorway, watching his car pull away down the winding driveway. My heart is pounding, adrenaline flooding my system even though the danger has passed.
My father knows. He knows what I did, and instead of condemning me, he's offering to help cover it up. To make the evidence disappear. To protect me the way he's protected himself and our family for decades.
I should feel relieved. Grateful, even.
Instead, I feel something else entirely. Something that tastes like power and smells like blood.
I killed a man. And my father's response wasn't horror or disgust. It was practical questions about evidence disposal and a dinner invitation.
This is what it means to be a Crawford. This is the legacy I've inherited, the darkness that runs through our bloodline like poison through veins.
For the first time in my life, I'm not sure if that's a curse or a gift.
I close the door and pull out my phone. Jade's name glows on the screen, and I stare at it for a long moment before typing out a message.
When you're ready to come home, I'll be here.
Then I set the phone down on the counter and pour myself a drink.
Not because I need it but because I want to celebrate.
My father knows the truth, and he's chosen to stand with me. Jade is coming back, even if she doesn't know it yet. And Marcus Webb is going to disappear so completely that no one will ever find him.
This is what it feels like to win.
I raise my glass to the empty room and take a long, slow sip.
CHAPTER 18- JADE
Chloe’s couch is comfortable enough, but sleep won't come.
I'm lying in the dark, wrapped in a blanket that smells like her lavender fabric softener, staring at the ceiling of her living room. She offered me the bed, but I couldn't take it. She has a deposition prep session tomorrow and needs the rest more than I do.
Besides, I don't deserve a bed right now. Not after what I did to my mother.
