Revenge Read online

  “The house looks nice,” Genny said after Iba had left us to dine alone. “The garden’s already set up, and the menu looks lovely. Celia has done an amazing job.”

  “I’ll let her know you appreciate it.”

  “I wasn’t sure about the two of you at first. I’d wanted to see you dating for years, but you sprang that marriage on us out of nowhere, and you have to understand that I wondered a bit if you’d gone off your rocker. I can see now why you chose her. She’s very good for you.”

  “She is.” I took a bite of my pasta, hoping it would loosen the tightness at the back of my throat that accompanied the subject of my wife. It had been a tumultuous afternoon, mostly revolving around her. It bothered me that Celia believed I could never let her win, that I could never choose something that was both right for her and wrong for me.

  It scared me more that she might be right. Was having a child with her really the only way I could prove otherwise?

  And then there’d been Marion…

  “Have you seen your mother yet?” I asked, wondering if Genevieve could provide some clue as to why Marion had stopped by the office.

  “No.” She swallowed her food with a sip of wine. “Talked to her, though. She’s coming in tomorrow morning from London and flying out again the same night. I’m gutted she didn’t bring Enzo or Sante with her. I haven’t seen either of them since they were still in nappies.”

  I had to fight not to scowl. I didn’t like to show judgment in front of my children where Marion was concerned, but it was hard not to express obvious distaste when it came to her parenting skills. I had been subpar at the job myself, but at least I hadn’t deserted them. When Marion had left, Genevieve had only been twelve, Hagan only two years older, and I could count on both hands the number of times she’d seen them since.

  Then, on top of denying them her presence, she kept her youngest sons from them as well.

  The only thing stopping me from saying something nasty was the awareness that much of her behavior was due to me. If I’d been better to Marion, if I had been what she’d needed, if I hadn’t compartmentalized her place in my life, she wouldn’t have left, and she could have been there for her children. It was my fault, in the end.

  Always my fault.

  “Sante and Enzo are still young. They’d easily bore at commencement ceremonies, and your mother would have to constantly find ways to entertain them. Perhaps she didn’t want to draw attention away from you.”

  “Perhaps.” Her pursed lips said she didn’t buy it for a second.

  She had understandable resentment for her mother. Was that why she’d wanted to meet tonight? Her text hadn’t exactly sounded urgent, but the fact that she’d reached out at all was unusual enough to garner concern.

  I studied her for several seconds, noting the tense furrow in her brow and the way she kept tracing the collar of her shirt with her fingers. She was nervous. Marion couldn’t be the reason I was here. Her mother didn’t make her nervous.

  “As much as I enjoy a random dinner with my daughter—soon-to-be-graduated, top-of-her-class daugher—I feel fairly certain you have something you want to discuss.”

  “I do.” She wiped her mouth with her napkin then draped it over her plate. Then she rolled her shoulders back, preparing herself to dive in. “There will be a lot of people asking tomorrow what I plan to do next.”

  “Yes, that is the way with graduations.”

  “I didn’t want to tell anyone else before discussing it with you.”

  But we had discussed this. She planned to move back to London and take her time finding a position that utilized her skills. She didn’t need a job right away. I was more than happy to provide for her. “Go on.”

  “I’m declining the flat you offered to pay for.”

  I had meant it to be a graduation present. I raised a brow. “Have you found somewhere else you prefer to live? Get me in contact with the flat owner, and I’ll sign the lease. Or would you prefer we purchase something outright?”

  “Actually, I have found somewhere else. In Lambeth. And I’ve already signed the lease.”

  I sat back. A flat in Lambeth was definitely not where I wanted my daughter living. Too Bohemian. Too cheap. “You already signed? Without my approval?”

  “I don’t need your approval because I’m paying for it on my own.”

  “I see.” And this was why she’d been nervous. She knew how I felt about her dipping into her trust fund. I’d thought she felt the same.

  “Not with my inheritance,” she clarified, as though reading my mind. “I got a place I can afford on my salary.”

  “Salary?” Now I was nervous as well.

  She swallowed. “Yes. Uh, I’ve accepted a position with Mills and Varga on their content development team.”

  I knew what the right thing to say was. Even behind her anxiousness, her excitement was evident. The right thing would be to acknowledge that. To congratulate her. To support her in her decisions.

  Except that her decision was wrong, and I couldn’t temper myself to pretending otherwise. “M&V?” The disgust was evident in my tone. “The cable network? Why on God’s green earth would you do a thing like that?”

  “I know they’re bottom of the barrel, as far as you’re concerned. I know I said I’d wait to accept any offers until I was sure. But they’re media, and that’s where I want to be working, and it’s a job I not only got without you, I got it in spite of you.” She spoke rapidly, reminding me of similar speeches when she was still a teen, ones where she begged to go on weekend trips with friends or to take a break from playing cello. It had been difficult to let her make her own choices then, when the outcomes of her decisions weren’t so critical.

  Now her future depended on her choices, and even though she was an adult, I very much wanted to pull the father card and put my foot down and say no.

  I forced myself to count to five before speaking. “What happened to pursuing PR work? You’ve always wanted to work in public relations. With your class rank, there are plenty of good jobs available in that area.”

  She rolled her eyes, making her momentarily look like the little girl she’d been. “I’ve never wanted to work in PR. You wanted me to work in PR because you thought it was a field more suited for a girl. Your words, not mine.”

  I winced at the reminder of the sexist remark. “Yes, I might have said that.”

  “I can’t believe you still have such traditional values,” she huffed. “Women are as capable as men, you know. They’ve proven it. Even more so, in some cases.”

  “Definitely in your case. I have no doubt you are more capable than every last man in your class.” There. I could be supportive. It wasn’t even a lie.

  “But…?” She left space for me to fill in the rest.

  “There is no but.”

  She threw her forearms down dramatically on the table, her palms up. “Then why have you encouraged Hagan to follow in your footsteps and not me? Why haven’t you once suggested that I come on board at Accelecom? You have to know it’s the field I’m interested in. I’ve said so numerous times.”

  I put my fork down, my appetite gone.

  She was right—I had known. She’d said as much for several years, even before university. There were several good positions at the company she was already qualified for. I could offer her one. Start her Monday morning.

  But I wouldn’t.

  Because, as much as Accelecom would benefit from her being on the team, I couldn’t have her working there. The company I’d built was a media empire, but the truth was, the only reason it had been built was so I could eventually take down Warren Werner.

  And even though Ron was now the man I wanted to ruin, I wasn’t done with Warren’s company. He was on the eve of retiring, and the stocks were in my wife’s name. While I didn’t plan on talking to her about it anytime soon, there were opportunities there that I refused to overlook.

  It took a certain kind of man to have that vision. A man that was
ruthless and relentless. A man that would behave cruelly and without ethics.

  I didn’t want my daughter to know that man.

  Maybe it was sexist to want to exclude her and not my son, but Hagan was a different sort of breed than Genevieve, having nothing to do with his gender. He was detached. He was ignorant. Even working at my side, he didn’t see the truth about who I was, and if he ever did, it wouldn’t faze him.

  Genny was too smart to miss anything, too earnest to not have serious objections to my questionable morals, and too ambitious to expect that I could hide my truth from her by placing her in a remote role of the company. It wasn’t only that I feared what she’d think of me, which was an honest concern, it was also that I feared what it might make her become.

  I refused to be a father who put her down that path.

  And if she had to believe that I thought less of her because of her gender in order to keep her from following in my footsteps, then so be it.

  “You aren’t suited for Accelecom, princess.” The words sounded as cruel and patronizing out of my mouth as they had in my head.

  Good.

  It was what she needed to stay away.

  Hurt flashed across her features, but she quickly recovered. She’d learned that well from me, how to pretend to be unfeeling. How to turn to stone.

  “That’s what I thought.” Her tone was even and sure. “Hence the reason I took the job at M&V. It’s better this way. No one can accuse me of nepotism.”

  Yes, it was better this way. Outside my arena. Safe.

  But that left Mills and Varga.

  I groaned. Did she really have to choose to work at a company so beneath her? A network that I could easily buy out if it were decent enough to add to my portfolio. “You’re so much better than M&V. There has to be someplace with a better offer.”

  “Not in media.”

  “What about Winton Globe? I could talk to Sheldon—”

  “I don’t want to work in print. That’s so archaic, Dad. And I really don’t want your help. I want to do this on my own. So don’t think about giving me a big check for a graduation present, because I won’t be cashing it.” She’d started our conversation with more maturity than I’d ever seen from her.

  Now though, she was bordering on a temper tantrum.

  In turn, I slipped deeper into the father role. “It’s my job as a parent to look after you. You should be grateful that you come from a family who is able to provide for you at this level. Most of your fellow graduates would be envious of your options.”

  “I am grateful. Of course I am. But I do not want to be Mom. I do not want to be a woman who relies on her husband to guide her in life or give her an identity or pay for her living, and if I rely on you for those things now, I’m only teaching myself to be reliant on someone else forever. I can’t go down that path. It won’t make me happy.”

  I suddenly understood so much about my daughter I never had, about what my relationship with her mother must have looked like. About all the ways my marriage had been a fucked-up model for my children.

  Even leaving sex aside, Marion had clung to the submissive life. It had consumed her. How could I explain her need for dominance? Or my need to dominate her? How could Genny see it as anything other than misogynistic? How could she ever understand that about her parents?

  This wasn’t something a father could tell a daughter, and Genny, being as intelligent and independent as she was, had already figured out she needed to navigate this area on her own.

  God, she would be such a firecracker to work with. She could help me take Accelecom to the next level. I could see it clearly. I could even find a way to let her remain independent, since she seemed to so badly want that.

  For a moment, I second-guessed my decision not to invite her to come on board.

  Then I remembered who I was, and what I didn’t want her to be, and that was more important than giving her an opportunity she dreamed of.

  Celia was right. I did always have to win.

  “It’s a good thing I’m not offering you a job at Accelecom then,” I said, doubling down on my stance, “since according to your own guidelines, you couldn’t accept it.”

  Her mouth opened and closed, her eyes blinking as she forced herself not to make an exception. She pulled herself together, though, like the champ she was. “Then we’re on the same page.”

  “We’re not, but I don’t think there’s anything I can do but respect your decisions, is there?” I swore under my breath. “M&V? Really? Do not even think of giving me one of those silly sweaters with their logo. I will not wear it, no matter how proud of you I am.”

  She chuckled at that. “You guessed your birthday present. I had thought about throwing in the socks as well, but they wouldn’t be so noticeably embarrassing when you wore them.”

  That earned her a smile. “Well. This dinner has been delightful. Is there any other bomb you’d like to drop on me this evening, Genny, before I retire for the night?”

  “Only one more—I’d like to be called Genevieve from now on. It’s more professional. Genny is so girlish.”

  She was trying to kill me. She really was.

  This, at least, I could give without debate. “I always did like the name Genevieve.”

  “Go figure.” She stood, and I with her. “I should probably get back to my flat. Long day tomorrow. You’re staying the night?”

  I nodded. “It doesn’t make sense to drive the two hours back only to turn around and come here again in the morning. You could stay here as well. I’m sure Iba wouldn’t mind preparing your room.” It was only half an hour to Cambridge, but, as always, I worried.

  She shook her head. “I didn’t bring my cap or gown and that would be an added hassle in the morning.”

  I nodded then reached out to hug her good night.

  “Thank you for listening,” she said. “And for trying to understand.”

  My throat burned, so I didn’t speak. I just squeezed her a little harder. Then, as difficult as it was, I let her go.

  Upstairs in the estate’s master bedroom, I took off my jacket and sat down on the bed with a sigh. I’d brought a glass of brandy up with me, and though I’d already drunk half of it, I still felt just as restless as I had before my first swallow.

  It had been an endless day.

  A day revolved around the most important women in my life. They each fought for individual attention in my mind. Would Genevieve be better for pushing her away? I’d tried that tactic with Camilla, and years of additional scars and therapy later I wasn’t sure I wasn’t to blame for a good portion of her pain.

  And Celia trusted me enough to bring another human into my universe.

  Did she not understand what sort of mistake that would be? Was there any way to keep her without paying that cost?

  And then there was Marion.

  I’d have to deal with her tomorrow. I couldn’t think about her now. Not in the state I was in.

  I took another long swallow then looked at my cell phone, the missed call notification still at the top of my screen. It was well after ten. Celia should be asleep, considering she had to be up early the next day.

  I cleared the notification then plugged my phone into the charger we kept beside the bed. Even if she was still awake, I wasn’t sure I could find the words she’d need from me. The explanations she would surely expect. The promises she’d want me to make. Not tonight.

  It was probably better that we not talk until I could.

  Seventeen

  Celia

  I made it to Bluntisham a little after nine in the morning. Thank goodness that I had a driver so I could spend most of the ride with an ice pack over my swollen eyes. Then, the last fifteen minutes, I did my makeup, hoping the heavy layer of foundation would hide the dark bags. It was an important day for Genny, which made it an important day for Edward, and even though I was still stewing and fretting about his absence and what it meant, I intended to give them the event she deserved.

/>   Though, the thought of seeing Marion again, of having to watch her and Edward interact amongst friends who probably knew her better than me, made me nauseated.

  It was time to bring out the old Celia, the one who could fake her way through anything.

  The façade fell immediately when I walked into the kitchen of the country house and found Edward standing at the island, a mug in his hand, the local newspaper spread out in front of him, a half-eaten omelet at its side. He was already in his trousers and white dress shirt. His tie was still open at his neck, but his suspenders were on, and damn did that man look good eating breakfast. It was insane how good.

  “You’re here,” I said, stunned. I’d expected I wouldn’t see him until I was surrounded by others. If I’d known I would have had a chance to talk to him alone before that, I would have prepared my anger. Instead, all I could do was blink at him in surprise.

  He looked up, a smile lighting his face at the sight of me. “Of course I’m here. Where else would I be?”

  All casual like. As if he hadn’t just up and disappeared the evening before.

  Not sure where the staff was, having come in through the side door, I paused a beat before I spoke so that I wouldn’t make a scene. Still, my words came out terse. “You didn’t come home last night. I had no idea where else you might be.”

  He set down his mug and stuck his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t come home because I was already here. It seemed a waste of a drive.”

  That was all the explanation he planned to give? He was maddening.

  “Why were you already here? Was I supposed to know you were here? Why didn’t you answer my calls? Were you alone?”

  He smirked as he came around the island and walked toward me. I was too angry for whatever he had in mind, but I couldn’t seem to move, his eyes pinning me in place.

  “You’re cute when you’re suspicious,” he said, wrapping his arms around me.

  I tried to squirm free with no luck against his firm grip. “You’re an asshole when…” The ways I could finish that sentence were endless. “Well, most of the time, actually.”