Chapter 7
I gripped the chair arms until my knuckles went white, trying to anchor myself to something solid as my world crumbled.
“You…” The word came out as barely a whisper. “You killed them?”
“I did what needed to be done.” Vincent leaned forward. “But by the time I tracked you down, the Rivers had already hidden. you away. Your grandfather died before I could return you to him.”
Bile rose in my throat. This man, sitting so calmly before me, had murdered my
parents in cold blood. The same man now wanted to marry me.
“Why tell me this?” I managed to choke out.
“Because you asked for everything.”
Vincent’s voice held no remorse. “And I
always keep my promises.”
“Your grandfather’s last words to me were
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‘Bring her home.“” Vincent’s voice dropped lower, his fingers drumming against the armrest. “I failed him. The only time I’ve ever failed anyone.”
My throat felt raw. “And now?”
“Now I’ll take you to him. Not the way he wanted, but-” He stood, towering over me. “At least I can bring his blood back to where it belongs.”
“His grave,” I whispered, the pieces clicking into place.
“Smart girl.” The corner of his mouth. twitched. “The Rivers kept you well hidden. Changed your name, erased every trace. But blood?” He shook his head. “Blood
always finds its way home.”
“I don’t understand. Why now? After all these years?”
“Because now you’re free.” Vincent’s eyes gleamed. “No more Rivers, no more pretending to be something you’re not. You’re Dominic Swanson’s granddaughter.
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His legacy.”
“Legacy?” I laughed, the sound brittle. “I didn’t even know he existed until five
minutes ago.”
“But you felt it, didn’t you? That you never belonged with them? That something was missing?”
His words hit too close. All those years of feeling like an outsider, of trying to earn love from people who saw me as property.
“Take me to him,” I heard myself say.
Vincent’s eyebrows rose. “Just like that?”
“You killed my parents.” My voice didn’t shake. “You want to marry me. The least you can do is show me where I came from.”
“Careful what you wish for, little bird. Once you see who you really are-”
“I already know who I am.” I met his gaze. “What I don’t know is who I could have
been.”
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Vincent’s fingers wrapped around my wrist, his grip firm but not painful. The warmth. of his hand sent an unwanted shiver down my spine. He pulled me from the room and held my wrist till we reached outside.
The evening air hit my face as we stepped outside. A black SUV waited, its engine purring. Vincent opened the passenger door, his other hand never leaving my wrist.
until I slid inside.
The leather seats creaked as he settled behind the wheel. His hand found my thigh, it was heavy and possessive. I stared straight ahead, fighting the urge to brush it.
away.
“Comfortable?” His thumb traced small circles on my leg.
I kept my silence, watching unfamiliar streets blur past. We left the city behind and buildings gave way to empty stretches. of road.
The car turned onto a dirt path, gravel
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crunching under the tires. An old shed emerged from the growing darkness.
Vincent killed the engine but left his hand on my thigh. “We’re here”
The shed loomed before us.
Vincent’s grip on my wrist guided me through the shed’s entrance. A single bulb cast long shadows across weathered walls.
At the far end, a massive leather chair commanded attention, it was more of a throne than furniture. The portrait beside it stopped my breath. The man’s face was all hard angles and determination, his eyes boring into me even from canvas.
Vincent’s laugh bounced off the walls. “Here she is, Dominic. Your granddaughter, finally home.”
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