“No, Theron, it’s just fucking reality. You move on, or you’re stuck in the past.”
“I hated you, you know that?”
“Oh, I know. And if I ever forget, I have the scar you left to remind me.”
He drops his gaze, looking ashamed. The truth is, I have long understood why he did it. And I have long forgiven him.
“I blamed you for being born a Montgomery. Something you had no control over just as I had no control over my own parentage. After that night, when Mom showed me what Carlisle did to her and told me you stood by and allowed it, it was easy to hate you. Hell, without that, it would have been easy. You got everything I wanted. And I didn’t even want it all. Just a small slice. The piece I thought I deserved. I was owed. I didn’t feel bad blackmailing the old man. Threatening to tell everyone the dirty little secret that was me. But I guess I started hating myself a little too, you know?”
I watch him and realize this is the most honest he has ever been. The most real.
“The mob, well, that was accidental at first. I was partying. A lot. I met a woman who turned out to be the sister of one of the heads of the families in northern Italy. By then, I was pretty heavily into cocaine. And this woman had her own agenda. Stupid, I know, but as I said, I was high, and she turned my head.” He looks wistful. Sad.
“Where is she now?”
“Dead.” He’s quiet like he’s remembering. “We stole from him. It was her idea, and I helped her. And when shit hit the fan, she thought she could talk to him. They were blood. Turns out blood doesn’t mean what she thought.”
“Did you love her?”
He shrugs a shoulder. “I don’t know. I was high all the time. At first, I was just having fun. But then things got heavy. Serious. She hated him, and when she betrayed him, he had her killed. Only let me live so that I could pay him back with interest of course. He knew who I was by then. The family name. The money he thought I would inherit.”
“A hefty sum.”
“I shouldn’t have let her go to him.”
“You can’t change the past, Theron. But you can choose your future.”
He looks at me oddly as I hear my own words.
“How was Mercedes? After?”
“Pretty fucked up.”
He exhales, forehead wrinkling as he takes it in. “I want to apologize to her. I need to.”
“Yeah, well, she’s got other things on her plate at the moment.”
As if on cue, a familiar voice has us both turn toward the door. Heels click as two women hurry and argue at once—Meredith and someone I wouldn’t expect to find here. Solana.
Solana comes into view first. She stops in the doorway, eyes dark with rage.
“Sir, I tried to stop her,” Meredith starts, coming up behind her.
“It’s fine,” I tell Meredith, standing and walking around my desk. “Close the door, Meredith.” Because this is going to get ugly.
“Uh… okay,” Meredith manages as Solana takes me in, sees the bruises still healing on my face, and understandably, makes an assumption.
The door has barely clicked when she charges toward me, all five feet three inches of her. “What the fuck did you do to her, you fucking bastard!”
I’m ready to catch her, but before I need to, Theron grabs her from behind, wrapping an arm under her breasts and pinning her against himself.
“Whoa, sweetheart.”
“What the—?” She clearly hadn’t realized anyone else was in the room, and for a moment, her attention is diverted as she struggles against Theron, who chuckles—mistake—and grips her wrists in one of his hands. That is until she slams the high heel of her shoe down on his foot.
“Fuck!” He releases her, and she turns to slap him.
“Solana, stop. Wait,” I tell her.
She turns to me, her arm still poised to slap until her eyes roam over my face again.
“Hear me out. Please.”
“Where is she? It’s been a week. No call. No proof of life!”
“Proof of life?” Theron asks.
She turns to him. “Who the fuck are you?”
He smiles. “His brother.” He gestures to me with a curt nod of his head.
“Figures,” Solana says with a sneer, then turns to me. “Where is she, Judge? Did she do that to you?”
“No. I don’t think she’s capable of that.”