Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
“Tell me,” she says in a small voice. “Tell me your side of the story.”
I love that she wants to know, and she isn’t jumping to conclusions. Who knows what her mother’s fed her?
I nod. “Your father worked for us, Bianca. He ran the underground fighting ring. One day, we had a fight break out, and shots were fired. We told your father to run for cover. I was there that day, but he didn’t make it. He tried to protect anyone he could, and he was taken down.” I swallow hard. “He died serving my family and the residents of Ballyhock.”
“My father worked for you,” she says in a small voice. She doesn't even know who her father was. “My mother tells a very different story.”
That doesn’t surprise me.
I squeeze her knee. “He wasn't mafia. Never inducted, no. But your mother never forgave us. She took the money we gave her, month after month, all the while plotting your marriage to Crowning.”
“My god.” She shakes her head. “My mother told me the McCarthys were responsible for my father's death, but something always bothered me about that.”
“Your mother has a way of twisting things, doesn't she?”
“Right,” she whispers. “How do I know this is true, Ashland?”
I blow out a breath. “Everything I told you about Crowning was true, wasn't it?”
Bianca's mother has more to gain from her daughter's hand in marriage, doesn't she? Crowning's estate.
There's more going on here than she realizes. Maybe more than any of us realize.
“What's going on, Ashland?”
“I'll have to look into it, but I suspect that your mother has more to gain than you marrying Crowning.” I grip the steering wheel tighter. This is going to hurt her. But she deserves the truth.
“What do you mean?” she asks, shaking her head.
“Your mother and Marcus Crowning Sr. have been having an affair for years now.”
The silence in the car is deafening.
“That's not—” Bianca starts, then stops. “That's impossible. We don't even run in the same circles. My mother works two jobs. We barely—”
“Bianca.” I glance at her, seeing confusion and denial warring on her face. “Your mother used to be friends with Mrs. Crowning. Before she started sleeping with her husband.”
“No.” She shakes her head vehemently. “No, my mother wouldn't—it’s a tiny apartment. She works constantly. She can barely afford—”
“She can afford it because my family has been sending her money every month for the past ten years.”
Bianca goes completely still.
“After your father died, my family set up a provision for you and your mother. We've been paying your bills, your rent, everything. But your mother…” I pause, choosing my words carefully. “She's been using that money for more than just survival. Expensive clothes. Country club memberships. Whatever it took to get into the Crownings' good graces.”
“You're lying.” Her voice is barely a whisper.
“I'm not. And I can prove it.” I check the time. We're ten minutes out. “Your mother has been living the high life on McCarthy money, making you think you were living like paupers, while feeding you lies about us being monsters. All so she could position herself, and you, closer to the Crownings.”
“Why would she do that?” Bianca's voice cracks.
“Because she wanted revenge against my family, believing us responsible for your father’s death. And what better revenge than to marry her daughter off to a man she knew would kill you eventually? She's been Marcus Crowning's mistress for years, love. She knew exactly what his son was. She knew what would happen to you.”
Bianca makes a small, wounded sound.
“I'll never make an accusation I can't back up,” I tell her firmly. “When we get to the house, I'll show you the financial records. The bank transfers. Everything. Your mother used you, Bianca. She's been using you from the start.”
She's shaking now, tears streaming down her face. I reach over and take her hand, but she doesn't squeeze back this time.
“It's vitally important to your mother that she stays on top, that she gains from all this, right? She's fed you lies about the McCarthys because god forbid anyone think we aren't monsters.”
“I don't know what you're getting at, Ashland, but I do trust you. It's my mother I don't trust. Or Marcus.” She looks out the window. “I just… You have to understand. For the last ten years, I thought your family was responsible for my father's death.” She pauses. “And you’re saying the McCarthys have been paying our bills?”
“Aye. The electric bill. The water. The groceries delivered every week to your door. The property taxes.” I pull out my phone, opening files I shouldn't, but do. “I could show you. Every payment, every month, every year. Itemized.”
I scroll through, turning the screen toward her. “Here's last month. The month before that, we covered a three-thousand-dollar dentist bill she racked up. Before that, we paid for the new furnace when yours died in February.”