IRIS‘I really want to be in your life, princess.’That was what my father had just said to me.After the many years I’d spent without a father, hearing him say that just… It made the anger at the bottom of my stomach boil even hotter.I had waited for this man on the front steps. Waited for him every single evening, hoping that one day, he would come back home. Come back to me.But he never did.Days and days passed. Weeks, months, years…I stopped waiting on the steps after a whole year.Mostly because I was tired of waiting, but also because that was when my mother started hitting me. And when I was finally able to run away, I ran straight to my grandmother—Harold’s mother. She was still alive at the time and also knew nothing about her son’s whereabouts.She was reluctant to take me in because she was scared she didn’t know how to take care of me since she was already failing in health.But I was fine with it. I didn't need much. I just needed a place to call home. A place to la
IRIS “Who?” I found myself asking even though I already knew the answer to that question.Harold looked me dead in the eye. “I’m sure you must remember a man who was your bodyguard for a very short period of time? The man who had actually kidnapped you on behalf of Quentin?”He trailed off, like he was waiting for me to say something. To ask him to go on. I didn’t. But he continued anyway.Harold leaned back in his seat. “Quentin sent him on another… errand, to get rid of your child before Maverick ever found out that she was his as well.”My breath caught.“So…” My voice was small, my head spinning.“Roman Vasilis cut the brakes.” My mouth opened but nothing came out.Nothing could come out.I mean, what was there to say?“You’re not…” I started, clearing my throat one I finally found my voice. “That still doesn’t mean anything. Maverick didn’t tell me that it was Roman, and so what? What does that have to do with anything?”My father chuckled darkly. “It might interest you to know
IRIS The moment the doors to the dining room closed shut, a heavy silence fell over the room. Uncomfortable as hell and too damn loud. My father’s gaze shifted down to his food, and he started to eat again, like he hadn’t just asked Ryan and Layla to abandon their meals and leave us alone. He was really fucking good at pretending like nothing was wrong. I supposed that was how he was able to easily stay away after he abandoned me. I glared at the glass of wine in front of me. It would be a good idea to get drunk as hell, but I couldn’t risk it. I needed to have a sound mind if I was going to continue this bloody conversation with my father. “What do you want from me?” I asked again, quieter this time. My throat felt tight as I watched him chew the food in his mouth, his gaze focused ahead of him instead of at the person sitting beside him. After a full, long minute, he finally turned to glance at me, his eyes narrowed at the edges as they studied me with the same interest you’
IRISI was furious. Seething.Harold was fucking infuriating.“So are we just going to pretend that Ryan didn’t just walk in with a blood stain on his shirt?” I asked, stabbing hard into the steak in front of me.I wasn’t hungry. Not anymore. But if sitting through this nightmare of a dinner was the only way Harold was going to let me speak to Maverick… then I was going to sit through it.Begrudgingly, of course.Ryan cleared his throat. “Where?” he muttered, looking down at his shirt like he didn’t know that the blood had been soaking into the fabric since before he walked in.“Where?” I echoed with a scoff, setting my fork down with a loud clink. And then I reached for the collar of his shirt, my fingers accidentally grazing the skin of his chest.Maybe I was imagining it, but Ryan had tensed beneath my touch.I bit down on a smirk. This man was so affected by me it would be so easy to get him to do what I wanted.All I had to do was play my cards right.“Right there, genius. Don’t
RYAN Harold Windsor was a complete asshole. And I might just fucking kill him.Up until about a year ago, I’d thought my sister was dead. I’d thought her body was even buried, but it wasn’t. Another damn body was placed in my sister’s coffin, charred beyond recognition so nobody would notice.The story was that Layla was in a car with Macerick Sinclair, both of them high out of their minds. But she was the one driving. Not him.I fucking hated Maverick Sinclair because he’d let my sister drive. Granted, the were both irresponsible teenagers, but he should have stopped her.He never should have let her drive.And then his fucking family offered my parents a shitload of money to keep their mouths shut, and my parents—their would rest in peace—agreed.They fucking agreed.And so I spent years hating the Sinclair family, plotting my revenge plan and everything.But Maverick fled the city. Starting a stupid tech company in Amsterdam that he named after my sister, like that was supposed to
IRIS “Who?” I found myself asking even though I already knew the answer to that question.Harold looked me dead in the eye. “I’m sure you must remember a man who was your bodyguard for a very short period of time? The man who had actually kidnapped you on behalf of Quentin?”He trailed off, like he was waiting for me to say something. To ask him to go on. I didn’t. But he continued anyway.Harold leaned back in his seat. “Quentin sent him on another… errand, to get rid of your child before Maverick ever found out that she was his as well.”My breath caught.“So…” My voice was small, my head spinning.“Roman Vasilis cut the brakes.” My mouth opened but nothing came out.Nothing could come out.I mean, what was there to say?“You’re not…” I started, clearing my throat one I finally found my voice. “That still doesn’t mean anything. Maverick didn’t tell me that it was Roman, and so what? What does that have to do with anything?”My father chuckled darkly. “It might interest you to know