“Why would she give you this? Knowing what it would do to Anastasia and Liam if the babyisn’this—”
Saoirse’s teeth worry at her lip. “She said she’s worried for her family if Liam refuses to go, and it turns bloody. She wants to keep Viktor safe.” She pauses. “I believe her, for what it’s worth.”
I want to tell her that it is worth something, that I’m sorry for disregarding her in the past, treating her as incapable of being a partner, a help to me. But I know that more words than what I’ve said won’t help. I need to show her that I mean it. That I want to make up for all of it.
Slowly, I open the envelope. I can feel Saoirse tensing next to me, and I hold the paper in my hand.
It takes me a moment to unfold it. Whatever is here, I don’t intend to let it change my plan to try to make peace with Liam, to see if there’s a way for us to lead the Kings together. But it does make a difference. If he doesn’t know—if he’s chosennotto know, then I’ll have information he doesn’t and that I know he’d never want me to have.
But it matters. If his child doesn’t have a speck of McGregor blood, they cannot ever lead the Kings. That is a step too far, even for me. The decision about inheritance will have to involve his later children and mine, but not his eldest.
And if he refuses to make peace, I need to know the truth about this as well.
Slowly, I unfold the paper, feeling Saoirse’s eyes on it as well. It takes me a second to focus on the results and a second more to let them sink in, almost as if my mind doesn’t want to believe what I’m reading.
“Shit,” Saoirse swears softly.
Liam’s child isn’t his. The results of the test are clear. There’s no indication of who the actual father is, but he doesn’t share a single shred of DNA with the child Anastasia is carrying. Something that he knew was possible—and yet, he’s never let on. He’s never shown anything but absolute joy and love and care for the child inside of her. I saw his fear and grief at the hospital, not just for Anastasia, but for their baby.
He truly doesn’t care.
At that moment, I know more than ever that I have to make peace with my brother. That revelation—the full realization of the kind of man he’s grown up to become, makes me so full of pride that I want nothing more than to tell him, to embrace him, and let him know what I think of him. That in spite of everything, he’s become a strong and honorable man. Maybe even the best of us.
But I can’t, because of the rift between us. A rift that I caused.
“What do we do?” Saoirse asks softly. “This is huge.”
“I don’t know,” I admit, the hand holding the paper sinking to rest on my knee. I’m utterly torn. Before tonight, I would have taken it as a victory. This information would have been everything I needed in order to turn the tide fully against Liam and oust him—I wouldn’t even have needed to reveal it to the Kings. Letting Liam know thatIknow would be enough to convince him to take Anastasia and leave, for their own safety. It would bring an end to all of it.
“Our marriage isn’t the only place I’ve made mistakes,” I tell Saoirse quietly. “And it’s not the only place I want to fix them. I want to heal things with Liam, as well.”
She looks at me, and I can see the hesitance in her eyes. “What do you mean? Give up the seat to him? Or something else? How would that work?”
My instinct is to tell her that it’s my decision to make, but I know that’s not right. She’s my wife, will be the mother of my children, and she deserves to be a part of this decision. She deserves for me to respect her enough to discuss it with her rather than laying down an edict.
“I want to share leadership with him. I haven’t spoken to him yet, so I don’t know how he will feel about it. I don’t know what his reaction will be or exactly how we’ll make it work. But I don’t want to continue to be enemies with my brother. I don’t want to lose the only blood family I have left, for him and his wife to raise their family far away from our home. This—everything I’ve done in regards to him and our family, from abandoning him with our father over a disagreement to coming back and trying to oust him, has been wrong. I need to make itright. And it starts with making peace.”
“What about inheritance?” Saoirse’s face is calm, as if she’s working through the thought of it. “Who inherits after the two of you?”
“Whichever child wants it.” I pause, hesitating. “When we were in Japan, and I went to the Nakamura house—a decision and a conversation that Ishouldhave shared with you, and I am sorry—Nobura and Kaito Nakamura shared a family story with me, a tragedy of what happened when two brothers were at odds over leadership, and could not make peace. The eldest child who stands to inherit may notwantit. Liam’s eldest can’t inherit, that much is clear. I think he’ll understand once he knows the truth. But his future children might, or ours might. I think the child best suited for it, whowantsthe responsibility, should be the one to take it. But that’s a decision for us to come to together. Our children and their future is just that—ours.”
“No one should be pushed into a life they don’t want.” Saoirse lets out a breath, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Her voice is hesitant, unsure, but she keeps speaking anyway. “I was, and you were. Liam was after you left. We’ve all figured it out in our way—but there’s been so much hurt and pain and grief associated with it. If there’s a different way, a better way—” She looks at me then, fully, and something in my chest tightens at the look of trust and understanding in her eyes.
I never thought she’d look at me that way. I never knew I’d want her to. But at this moment, it feels as if everything has aligned. As if every piece has finally clicked into place.
“If Liam will listen,” she says softly, “this could work. It could be better. We have a responsibility to our children to make this life better. So let’s try. Talk to Liam privately when they return to the house tomorrow after he and Anastasia have settled in. Tell him the truth, and the two of you can move forward from there.”
A thought occurs to me, one that I don’t want to believe. “What if he does know already, and he’s lied about it? Pretended that the baby was his?”
Saoirse considers for a second, but shakes her head. “I don’t think so,” she says softly.
“How could anyonenotfind out?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. Everyone is different. I think that if I was in their situation, I might not want to know. Think about it—if the baby was his, and they knew, everything would be fine. But if theyknewit wasn’t, for sure—that would always hang over their heads. It would always be there, this awful fact. If they don’t know—there’s always that possibility that the babyisLiam’s.” She pauses, glancing at me. “You’ll have to take that into consideration when you talk. They made a choice not to know, and now that choice is being taken away from them. It won’t be easy.”
“I can’t have this information and hide it. Not if we’re really going to move forward.”
“No,” Saoirse agrees. “But he’ll be angry, most likely. Just—be patient. Remember that this is what you want.”