Chapter 3

Roxy’s POV

Six Years Later

“I take you, Richard Carrington, to be my lawful wedded husband. To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death do us part.”

My mother’s voice echoed across the ballroom like she’d been rehearsing it her whole life and maybe she had.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the priest said, smiling at the small crowd. “You may kiss the bride.”

I stood in my chief bridesmaid’s dress and watched Richard Carrington pull my mother close by the waist, his hand settling just above the curve of her hip, watching him kiss her while everyone around me clapped and cheered, and made myself smile along with them smiling when I wanted to scream.

It had taken six years to become this version of myself the one who didn’t flinch anymore when someone whispered behind her, who could walk into a crowded room without wondering if everyone in it had seen that video. Six years to stop letting Cain Carrington decide who I was.

The week I moved out of my mother’s house, I cut my hair into a blunt bob that ended just below my jaw. Partly because I wanted something different, mostly because short hair meant no one could ever get a fist around it again.

I wasn’t that eighteen year old anymore. I didn’t trust easily, and I definitely didn’t need anyone which was the only reason I hadn’t fallen apart the moment my mother told me she was marrying a billionaire. Even if the billionaire’s last name happened to be Carrington.

Two months earlier, when she’d first said the name out loud, I’d nearly lost it completely. I’d barged into her dressing room and stood behind her while she calmly finished her lipstick in the mirror.

“Carrington,” I said. “As in Cain Carrington? The reason we packed up our whole lives and left six years ago? That Carrington?”

My mother didn’t even flinch. She kept dabbing color onto her lips like I’d commented on the weather. “It’s a big family, Roxy. His father isn’t his son.”

“You knew.” My voice cracked, and I hated that it did. “You knew exactly whose name that was, and you’re marrying into it anyway?”

“I’m marrying Richard.” She finally met my eyes in the mirror. “This marriage is going to change our lives, Roxy. That’s all you need to understand right now.”

That was the whole explanation I ever got. I didn’t push harder, because pushing had never worked on my mother. She handed out answers on her own schedule, in her own version of the truth, and the rest of us were simply expected to live with whatever she decided to give.

I didn’t know yet how much smaller that explanation was than the truth actually was. I only knew that somewhere in that family tree was a boy who’d once held up a bloodstained sheet in front of two hundred people and called it proof, and my mother had looked me dead in the eye and married his father anyway.

So here I was, standing beside her at the altar in ivory silk I hadn’t picked out, watching her become Mrs. Carrington.

Which meant his children were now, on paper, my family—which meant Cain was now my stepbrother.

I almost laughed. Six years of rebuilding myself out of the wreckage he’d left, and the universe’s idea of a joke was tying me to him with a marriage certificate.

At the reception, I sat through two hours of champagne toasts and business associates congratulating my mother on her upgrade, wearing the polite, empty smile I’d perfected for exactly this kind of room. Richard kept circling back to his children, apologizing that they couldn’t all be here.

“My daughter Ivy’s finishing her semester abroad,” he told the table, beaming like he hadn’t already said it twice. “Marcus had an exam he couldn’t miss. And Cain” he shook his head, still smiling “Cain had something come up at the last minute. Work, of course. That boy never stops.”

Just the name did it. My fingers went tight around the stem of my wine glass, and for one long second, I wasn’t in a ballroom anymore. I was eighteen, standing in a house full of laughter, watching the most private moment of my life play across a screen the size of a wall, listening to him tell a room full of people that I knew how to ride for a virgin.

Beside me, my mother’s hand found mine under the table for half a second, quick enough that no one else would have noticed. A warning, or maybe an apology, I still couldn’t tell the difference with her.

I was almost grateful he hadn’t come. If he’d walked into this reception tonight, I honestly couldn’t promise what I would have done to him in front of two hundred witnesses.

“Such a shame,” I said instead, and lifted my glass to my mouth so I wouldn’t have to say anything else.

“Really a shame indeed,” my mother echoed, patting Richard’s arm.

Richard didn’t seem to notice anything wrong with either of us. He leaned back in his chair, satisfied, working up to something.

“Actually, I’ve been thinking. Since all three of my children will finally be home next weekend, why don’t you come stay at the manor for a while, Roxy? Get to know your new brothers and sister properly.”

I choked on my wine. It went down wrong, and I coughed hard enough that the woman beside me reached over to pat my back.

“I’m sorry,” I managed, my eyes watering. “What?”

“Move into the manor,” Richard said again, like I hadn’t heard him the first time. “Just for a while. I want us to feel like a real family, and honestly, the house has been too quiet since the kids grew up. It would mean a lot to me.”

My mother’s face lit up. “Oh, Richard, that’s a wonderful idea.” She turned to me. “It’ll be good for you, sweetheart. A fresh start, and it’s the perfect opportunity to bond with your new siblings.”

New siblings?

One of whom had once stood in front of an entire graduating class and told everyone exactly how I’d tasted, learning to ride for the first time.

I set my glass down carefully. “I have an apartment,” I said. “I have a job.”

“You can keep both.” Richard waved a hand, like that settled it. “I just want you close for a few weeks at least. The family should be close… And if your job is the issue, then you can come work at my company.”

I looked at my mother, silently begging her to read the panic behind my eyes and shut this down.

She only smiled wider. “It could be good for you, Roxy.”

No. Absolutely not.

I had spent six years making sure Cain Carrington could never touch my life again. I wasn’t about to hand him a hallway between our bedrooms.

I put the polite smile back on and shook my head. “I’m sorry, Richard, but I just don’t see myself leaving my apartment or my job anytime soon.”

He studied me for a moment, and whatever he saw on my face only seemed to amuse him.

He lifted his glass in my direction, his eyes holding mine over the rim.

“Well. You know what they say. Never say never, Roxy.”