Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
“This nonsense about postponing the wedding. You're being dramatic,” my mother snaps. But when Ashland growls beside me, she quickly modifies her tone.
Something is off-putting—she doesn't really sound surprised.
“Am I?” I lean forward. “I have witnesses. There's a chef in the kitchen who saw him grab me. The hostess saw me run. I have proof he tried to hurt me.”
“Marcus would never—”
“He's killed two women before her,” Ashland says flatly. “Two exes who died within a year of meeting him. Accidents, they said. But we know better, don't we, Mrs. White?”
My mother's face goes pale. She may be defending him, but I don't know if she knew this part.
“You don't know what you're talking about.”
“Don't I?” Ashland leans back. “Funny thing about the McCarthy family, we keep very good records. We've known who Marcus Crowning is for a very long time. The question is, did you?”
The silence stretches, heavy and damning.
“Mam?” My voice cracks. “Did you know?”
She looks away, her fingers twisting in her lap. “I knew there were rumors, but rumors aren't facts, Bianca. Marcus's father is a good man. He would never let his son—”
“His father is a criminal,” Erin says from the corner. It's the first time she's spoken, pragmatic and direct. “Just like Marcus, just like all the Crownings.”
“Who are you?” My mother's head snaps toward Erin. Something passes between them.
“My name is Erin McCarthy. I'm married to Cavin. I work for the McCarthy family, Mrs. White,” Erin says quietly, directly. “I actually pay their bills. And, as a matter of fact, yours.”
My mother blinks. Then her head snaps back to me, and her lips press together. She's been lying the whole time.
“You knew,” I whisper. Realization hits me like a physical blow. “You knew he was dangerous, and you still wanted me to marry him.”
“I wanted you to be taken care of,” my mother says firmly. “I wanted you to have the life you deserved. The life your father would have wanted.”
“My father,” I say, “worked for the McCarthy family. He wasn't their victim, was he?”
The words hang in the air. My mother's face crumbles. “Who told you that? These monsters? They're responsible for his death, Bianca.”
“Remember where you are,” Erin says coldly.
“Yes,” Ashland says quietly. “He worked for us. He chose it. He signed paperwork to that end, knowing what he was doing was dangerous. We tried to save him, but we couldn't. And ever since he died, we've been making amends for it, haven't we?” He nods to Erin.
“We have records, ma'am.”
“Lies,” my mother hisses. “Lies.”
“Are they?” I sit up straighter. “I've seen those files, Mam. I've seen the evidence. The bank records, the communications.”
“They killed your father, and they had to pay for what they did.”
The room goes very quiet.
“Pay,” I repeat slowly. “What do you mean, pay?”
My mother's mouth opens and closes. She's said too much, and she knows it.
“That's right,” Ashland says, his voice deadly calm. “Have we been giving you money?”
“Answer the question,” I demand.
“Every month,” my mother spits out. “Fine. Guilt money, blood money for taking her father from her. I took it because it was the least they could do.”
“They've been supporting us.” I shake my head. “All these years, when you said you were struggling. When you said we could barely afford groceries and lived in that crappy apartment. They were sending money to assuage their guilt. To take care of us,” I whisper. “Because even though they were not responsible for Da's death, they still made sure his family was provided for. And you made them out to be the devils themselves.”
The pieces are falling into place now.
“The engagement to Marcus. You arranged it, didn't you? Not for my future or my safety.”
My mother's silence is answer enough.
“For revenge,” Erin says softly. “You arranged for Bianca to marry into the Crowning family because you wanted revenge on the McCarthys. That's one theory, anyway. But the truth is that it had a lot more to do with you wanting to be with Marcus Crowning Sr., didn’t it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” My mother shakes her head. “You're a liar. I only wanted what was best for you, Bianca.”
“Best for me?” I say. “You came here begging me to go back to a man who was trying to hurt me.”
“You're being dramatic again.”
“Stop telling me I'm dramatic! Everything about me is wrong, isn't it? I'm too dramatic. I romanticize everything. I'm too—” I swallow the word. “Fat.”
“Bianca,” my mother says. But she no longer has the power to still me with one word. “This is all dramatics. Marcus wouldn't have killed you. You're too valuable to his family.”
“His dead girlfriends say otherwise,” Ashland growls. “And your welcome here is wearing very thin.”
“You used me.” I'm shaking now, anger and betrayal roaring in my chest. “Even now, you're here because he sent you, aren't you? You sold me to a killer for your own gain. You let me believe we were poor while you lived off the McCarthy money. You let me hate them for something they had nothing to do with.”