“Lorenzo was just telling me that the little lawyer representing Bianca is asking questions about the bank account he and his cousin share,” Alexander says offhandedly.

“Cousin,” I remark dryly. “Right.”

Lorenzo arches one thick brow. “You have something to say, little Hart?”

“Nothing at all,” I answer blithely. “Knowing the intimate details of your personal life is well outside my need to know, isn’t it? It’s not like I’m trying to keep you from having to shell out millions. Why would I need to be privy to all your dirty little secrets?”

Lorenzo stares at me for a moment, his red face blank and not giving any evidence of how he might react, but surprisingly, another sharp laugh escapes him. “That is funny,” he chuckles. “Someone like you speaking of dirty little secrets.”

My jaw clenches. “Is there something you would like to say, Lorenzo?”

“Let’s not talk business,” Alexander says drolly, like this entire conversation is boring him. He taps his fingers on the table near my mother. “Jackie. Go check on dinner, would you?”

“She’s not your fucking maid,” I seethe.

Alexander narrows his eyes. “It’s not your fucking business, boy.”

My mother’s hand pats my knee gently under the table, and when I turn to look at her, she gives me a slight shake of her head, already rising from her chair. One of Alexander’s actual maids enters the room from the galley door, holding a fresh glass and a bottle of wine, just as my mother disappears through it. The maid sets the glass in front of me, presenting the bottle.

“Wine?”

Normally, I would say no, but a little liquid courage feels necessary if I’m going to get through this dinner. “Please.”

She fills my glass as Alexander and Lorenzo delve into quiet conversation about the event Alexander is apparently hosting here at the house in the coming weeks, occasionally bringing Eli into the fold as I nurse my glass, effectively ignored for the moment. I’m used to it, but I fail to see why it’s something I’m still forced to subject myself to. Part of me thinks it’s for Alexander’s entertainment. I think he enjoys reminding me just how firmly under his thumb he has me pressed.

My mother returns a short while later with people bringing in dinner behind her, and Lorenzo gushes loudly about the food as Alexander laughs at his antics. Even from here I can see that his laughter is fake, that the amusement in his features is calculated. His eyes tell a different story, glaring at Lorenzo with thinly veiled disgust when Lorenzo isn’t looking. Almost like he actually can’t stand to be in the other man’s presence.

Interesting.

“So, Jackie,” Lorenzo says at some point. “I hear you are doing well these days, no? Must be nice to have your husband take such good care of you after everything.”

My fingers close around my fork, gripping it tight. “Maybe you’ve had enough wine, Lorenzo.”

“It is not a secret,” Lorenzo snorts. “You should be grateful you are even here. That Alexander still gives you a place at his table. It is much more than I would have done.”

“It’s not something we like to talk about at dinner,” Alexander says, surprising me. I would think he would love an opportunity to remind me. I suspect it’s just that he doesn’t like Lorenzo knowing his business, which raises the question, why does he? “Why don’t you tell me about the merger instead. Have you finalized?”

“I’m feeling tired,” my mother says softly, causing everyone to turn and look at her. “Would it be all right if I went on up to bed?”

“You’ll stay until we’re finished,” Alexander says, his tone leaving no room for argument. Then he ignores her completely to give his attention back to Lorenzo. “Anyway, the merger?”

Maybe it’s the wine in my system, or the stress of this fucking case paired with Alexander and my brother constantly breathing down my neck, or maybe it’s even a bit of the mess with Dani—I can’t be sure. All I know is that my blood is boiling under my skin, and there are tinges of red in my vision that form when I see my mother shrivel down into her chair.

“She said she’s tired,” I manage tightly. “I’m going to take her to bed.”

“She will stay until we are finished,” Alexander warns, fixing his gaze on me. “And so will you.”

I look to Eli, who is watching this unfold with a bored expression. “She’s your mother too,” I say, my tone accusing. “How can you let him treat her like this?”

“She stopped being my mother the day she got knocked up with you,” he says cruelly.

My mother sniffles, and I see full-on red. “Fuck you, Eli. I should feed you your fucking teeth for—”

“Sit down, Ezra,” Alexander bellows, slamming his fist on the table.

“No, I’m sick of both of you treating her like some kind of—”

“Sit down right now,” Alexander continues darkly, “or you will deeply regret continuing this little tantrum.”

Even with my heart beating a tattoo against my ribs, my blood pulsing in my ears with anger—I recognize the threat is not for me. Alexander knows that there’s nothing he can do to me. That it’s not me he’ll make suffer.

I gulp down a breath, feeling like my chest is too tight, my eyes flitting from Alexander to Eli to my mother and back again before finally letting out a frustrated sound and sinking down into my chair. I could kill them both at this moment, I think. I could bury them both in the backyard and never lose a night’s sleep over it. But even that seems like too easy an end for monsters like them.

Lorenzo, having been quiet through all of this, lets out another annoying laugh after the dust settles, only fueling my rage. “You have quite the leash on him, eh?” He flashes a grin at Alexander conspiratorially. “If it had been my wife who had gotten herself saddled with a bastard baby, I would have tossed them into the streets.” He fixes his gaze on me, leering. “You are very fortunate your father is such a giving man.”

“He’s not my fucking father,” I hiss.

The entire table goes silent.

It’s a truth we all know, one that has been the fucked-up glue to this broken dynamic that we’ve been suffering since the day my life changed and my mother practically lost hers—but I don’t think I’ve ever dared to say it out loud like this. Not to Alexander, at least. His response is immediate, his blue eyes turning frigid as he laces his fingers together, leaning toward me from the other end of the table.

“I think maybe you should go,” he says darkly, his voice menacing. “Go home and reevaluate your priorities, and how much you stand to lose by falling from my good graces. I didn’t toss you out in the street like Lorenzo said, and you would do well to remember that.”

I wish you had, I practically scream in my own head. I wish you’d just let us both go.

I turn to my mother, and her gaze is pleading, searching mine and begging me not to make things worse. I feel like shit then, knowing that she’ll be the one he takes his anger out on. Not physically, since he’s never put his hands on her—I’d kill him if he did—but mentally. I know that he’ll twist and abuse her guilt until she’s more broken than she already is. It’s an art he’s perfected over the years.

“Go,” she says softly, squeezing my knee. “I will call you later.”

I push away from the table, my chair scraping loudly against the wood floor as I spin on my heel to leave. I don’t even spare a glance at the other men still at the table, wishing more than anything that I never had to look at them ever again. Wishing that I would have just skipped this farce of a family gathering in the first place; it would have been better to take Alexander’s chewing out tomorrow than put my mother through what I just did. I know how much it kills her to be reminded of what she did, even if I’m sure Alexander fucking deserved it.

I’m in my car when I feel my phone buzzing in the pocket of my suit jacket, and I tear it out and swipe it unlocked. The breath that escapes me upon seeing Dani’s name on the screen might be the first full one I’ve taken since I arrived here.