“What’s that got to do with us?” Easton finally asks. His voice is dripping with insolence.
“It’s a Royal baby, which means it will have the Royal last name. We’re getting married.” Callum is implacable. I guess this is what he sounds like in the boardroom, but this isn’t a business deal. It’s his family.
Brooke raises her left hand and spreads her fingers.
By the window, Reed’s entire body grows rigid. Beside me, Easton growls.
“That’s Mom’s ring!” Sebastian spits out.
“You can’t give her Mom’s ring.” Sawyer picks up a vase from the side table and throws it across the room. It doesn’t come anywhere near Brooke, but the crash makes us all flinch. “That’s fucking bullshit.”
“It’s not her ring.” Callum threads a shaky hand through his hair. “It might look like it, but your mother’s ring is upstairs. I promise you that.”
I gawk at him. What kind of man gives his new wife a ring that looks like his dead wife’s ring? And what kind of woman wants that? This game that Brooke is playing is too twisted for me. It’s like she’s getting off on hurting everyone.
“Your promises aren’t worth the dust under that chair,” Gideon says to his father. He’s cold and unyielding, a sharp contrast from his usual mild-mannered demeanor. Of all the Royal boys, Gid has always been the calmest. But he’s not at all calm right now. “You can make all the babies you want with her, but they’re not part of our family and never will be.”
He pushes forward, striding all the way over to Brooke and Callum. I hold my breath as he looms in front of them.
“You will never belong here,” he tells her, so matter-of-factly that it brings a frown to her lips. “No matter who you spread your legs for, you’ll never be more than a whore from Salem Street.”
Brooke smiles. “And you’ll never be more than a rich man’s forgotten son whose mother killed herself.”
Gideon flinches. Then he spins on his heel and marches out of the room. The twins follow suit. Then Easton. Only Reed and I remain, and I can’t help but glance in his direction. His expression is full of disgust. Anger. Disappointment.
But the one thing it’s missing is…surprise.
Callum’s announcement about a new Royal baby had shocked the hell out of everyone except Reed.
Our gazes lock, and in that moment, I see the truth in his blue eyes.
He’d already known.
14
Reed
The minute Ella’s eyes swing toward me, I know she’s jumped to the wrong conclusion.
I grab her wrist and drag her out of the parlor and into the room across the hall, which just so happens to be my mom’s study—and the place Gid and I found her after…after she died. Perfect. This is exactly where my relationship with Ella will be saved. Not.
“Look—” I start, but she’s off and running before I can get another syllable out.
“That’s your baby, isn’t it?” she hisses.
“No. I swear it. It’s not mine.”
“I don’t believe you.” Her hands are tiny fists at her side.
I want to reach for her, but I don’t think that’ll go over well. “I haven’t touched her since you came here,” I repeat for what feels like the thousandth time. “I was done with her even before that.”
She slaps the nearest surface and dust fills the air. This room has been closed up for a long time. “How do you know it’s not yours?”
I shift uncomfortably, because answering requires me to dredge up a bad memory, but I don’t have much choice. “When I saw her, she just had a small bump.”
Ella pales, and I know she’s remembering that night when she discovered Brooke naked in my room. “You don’t know. You can’t know. Not until you get a test done. I’m sick.” She presses a hand to her stomach. “I feel actually, honest to God, sick to my stomach.”
“It’s not mine. It must be my dad’s. Or hell, it could be anyone’s. She’s willing to cheat on my dad,” I say with desperation.
“So are you.”
I suck in a breath. That’s a direct hit and she knows it. But I’m not giving up. This is a fight I’m going to win even if I have to play dirty.
“I’m not going to deny that I was a dick. Maybe I still am, but I’m not the father of Brooke’s baby. I didn’t cheat on you. I kept a secret about my past from you, and it was a crappy thing to do. I know that. It was wrong. I’m sorry. Just…please, please forgive me,” I plead. “Put both of us out of our misery.”