Chapter Seventy-Two: Blood and Betrayal

Dominic's POV

The Blackwood estate looked exactly the same as it had when I was twelve years old and terrified of disappointing the woman who'd raised me to be ruthless.

Funny how some things never change.

I sat in my car outside the wrought-iron gates, staring at the mansion that had shaped me into the man I'd become. Cold marble, perfect landscaping, and enough security to protect a small country. Everything designed to project power and control.

Everything my mother had taught me to value above human connection.

Everything Scarlett had taught me was worthless without someone to share it with.

The threat she'd received last night was still burning in my mind. Too bad you won't live long enough to enjoy it. The words had been circling in my head for hours, along with a growing certainty about who was behind them.

I'd known this conversation was coming from the moment Blake Reynolds first mentioned my mother's involvement. I'd just been putting it off, hoping I was wrong, hoping the woman who'd raised me wasn't capable of the things I suspected.

But Titan Security's preliminary report had arrived this morning, and there was no more hoping. No more pretending. No more choosing to be blind to what was right in front of me.

Lydia Blackwood, the woman who'd taught me to tie my shoes and read bedtime stories and build empires that would outlast kingdoms, had been trying to murder my wife.

I parked the car and walked through gates that opened automatically, recognizing the biometric scanners that had been installed when I was sixteen. Everything about this place was familiar—the crunch of gravel under my feet, the smell of jasmine from the gardens, the weight of family legacy pressing down like gravity.

The front door opened before I could knock.

"Dominic," my mother said, as if she'd been expecting me for hours. "How nice of you to visit."

She looked exactly the same as always. Silver hair perfectly styled, designer dress that probably cost more than most people's cars, diamonds that caught the afternoon light like tiny weapons. Everything about her radiated the kind of authority that came from never being told no.

Everything except her eyes. Those were different. Calculating in a way that made my skin crawl.

"Hello, Mother," I said, stepping into the foyer that had intimidated business rivals and foreign dignitaries for thirty years.

"Tea?" she asked, already walking toward the sitting room where she'd hosted presidents and destroyed enemies with equal grace.

"This isn't a social visit."

"I know exactly what kind of visit this is." She settled into her favorite chair—the one positioned to catch the best light and make everyone else squint to see her properly. "The question is whether you're here as my son or as her husband."

"I'm here as both."

"Impossible," she said, pouring tea from a service that had belonged to five generations of Blackwood women. "The two loyalties are mutually exclusive now."

I remained standing, keeping the distance between us that felt necessary for what was about to happen. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why Blake Reynolds? Why the poison? Why are you trying to kill my wife?"

She didn't flinch. Didn't deny it. Didn't even look surprised that I knew.

"Because," she said, taking a delicate sip of tea, "that woman is going to destroy everything our family has built."

"Scarlett has never done anything to hurt our family."

"Hasn't she?" Lydia set down her cup with the kind of precision that meant she was about to deliver a killing blow. "She's made you weak, Dominic. Emotional. You used to make decisions based on logic and strategy. Now you make them based on what some girl wants."

"Her name is Scarlett."

"Her name is irrelevant. What matters is what she represents—the end of the Blackwood empire."

I stared at the woman who'd raised me, trying to find some trace of the mother I remembered. The one who'd held me when I had nightmares, who'd taught me that family was the only thing that mattered, who'd made me believe that love and power could coexist.

"You tried to have her poisoned," I said.

"I tried to remove a threat."

"She was pregnant."

"With a child that would have diluted our bloodline with weakness."

The casual way she said it—like she was discussing stock prices instead of murder—made something cold and furious settle in my chest.

"You worked with Blake Reynolds to destroy her marriage."

"I worked with Blake Reynolds to protect your future. That girl was never supposed to matter to you. She was supposed to be a temporary arrangement. A business transaction."

"She's my wife."

"She's a mistake." Lydia stood up, moving with the kind of predatory grace that had terrified competitors and allies alike. "A mistake I've been trying to help you correct before it becomes permanent."

"By trying to kill her?"

"By removing an obstacle to your success." She moved closer, and I caught the scent of the perfume she'd worn my entire life—something expensive and cold that reminded me of power and control. "Do you think I enjoyed working with that pathetic Reynolds boy? Do you think I liked getting my hands dirty with poison and crude threats?"

"Then why do it?"

"Because I love you." The words came out fierce, desperate, like she was trying to make me understand something vital. "Because you're my son, and I will not watch you throw away everything we've built for some damaged girl who doesn't even know how to hold a fork properly."

"She knows how to hold a fork."

"She knows how to play the victim. There's a difference."

The contempt in her voice made my hands clench into fists. "She survived everything you threw at her. She destroyed Marcus Blackstone. She saved fifty thousand jobs and exposed twenty years of corporate crime. What exactly about that sounds like victim behavior to you?"

"She got lucky."

"She got smart. And strong. And powerful enough to make men like Blackstone afraid."

"She got you to fight her battles for her."

"No," I said, and for the first time in this conversation, I smiled. "I got to watch her fight her own battles. And win."

Lydia's expression shifted, becoming something I'd never seen before. Not anger—she'd shown me anger plenty of times. This was something colder. More calculated.

"You're in love with her."

It wasn't a question.

"Yes."

"That's unfortunate."

"Why?"

She moved to the window, looking out at gardens that had been designed to project serenity while hiding the kinds of secrets that could topple governments.

"Because love makes people do stupid things. Dangerous things. Things that destroy families and empires and legacies that took generations to build."

"Or things that make those legacies worth having."

"Pretty words," she said without turning around. "But we both know better. You've seen what happens when emotions rule business decisions. You've watched strong men become weak because they let their hearts override their brains."

"I've also watched strong men become monsters because they let their ambition override their humanity."

"Is that what you think I am? A monster?"

"I think you're a woman who tried to murder my wife because she threatened your control over me."

"I think I'm a woman who's spent thirty years building an empire so my son could inherit something worth having."

She turned back to face me, and in her eyes I saw something that made my stomach drop. Not guilt or regret or even anger.

Pride.

She was proud of what she'd done.

"The poison was Blake's idea," she said conversationally. "Crude, but effective. I preferred more subtle approaches."

"Such as?"

"The business pressures. The media campaigns. The carefully placed doubts about her competence and stability." She smiled, and it was the most terrifying expression I'd ever seen on her face. "I've been destroying reputations longer than that girl has been alive."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I want you to understand what you're up against. What she's up against." Lydia moved closer, her voice dropping to the tone she'd used when I was young and she was teaching me lessons about power and control. "This isn't over, Dominic. It will never be over as long as she remains a threat to our family's interests."

"Our family's interests?"

"The Blackwood legacy. The empire we've built. The future I've planned for you."

"What if I don't want that future?"