Sordid

I’ll do all of those things and more. Bridget deserves it.

“Thank you,” I say to everyone, my eyes concentrating on Spencer and then turning to my father. “Thank you.”

What they’ve done for me is more than I deserve. For years I’ve been underhanded in my dealings and did my best to take them down. And for what? My own pride.

“It’s what family does,” Spencer replies.

“I want to make things right, but right now I need to get my baby girl.”

“Go.” He laughs.

A small smile forms on my face and I make my way toward the door. It’s time to reclaim my future, but first I need to deal with Chelsea.




I stroll into Chelsea’s office, standing tall. She’s sitting behind her desk on the phone. “I have to call you back,” she tells the person on the other line before placing the phone down on her desk.

“You thought you had me. You thought you could manipulate me one more time, but there’s something you missed,” I say, approaching Chelsea.

“I miss nothing.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. You just don’t get it. You don’t get family. You never have and you never will.”

She laughs the haughty, irritating laugh I’ve grown accustomed to over the years. It’s grated on my nerves forever, but today it doesn’t. I’m not bothered by it in the least because I know it’s the last time I’ll ever have to listen to it.

“What you missed is that a real family, no matter what, is there for each other.”

“You don’t have a family either. I made sure of that.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” I chuckle. “A real family always has your back. Years might pass, but they never give up on you. They’re there for the good, they’re there for the bad, they’re there to listen to you apologize, and . . . they’re there to fix the problem.” I let the words hang in the air around us until she pales, and her mouth drops open. “That’s right, Chelsea. They’re there to fix my problem. Turns out they found a whole bunch of problems.”

I shove the papers from Jax in her hand—pages upon pages detailing her embezzlement with her signature on the forms, and his emails detailing everything. Her hand noticeably shakes as she looks down at the paper before lifting her gaze to me. I watch as a myriad of emotions play across her flawless face, confusion, shock, and then her cheeks suck in as she squares her shoulders.

“It’s over.”

“What do you want?”

“My daughter.”

“Or what?”

“Or this all goes to the police. Or . . .”

“Or?”

“I turn a blind eye to what you did to me. To what he did to me.”

“I want half of what is owed me,” she says with defiance, her hand resting on her cocked hip.

“You’ll get nothing. I’d say you’ve more than collected over the years.”

Her eyes widen, and I finally see the fear hiding deep within them.

“You can’t give me nothing! How will I live?” she cries.

“I’m sure you can get Miles to help you.” I shrug because I don’t give a fuck.

“Can’t you find it in yourself to go easy on me?”

I look at the ceiling and consider. “You’ve made a fool of me for a very long time. You made a fool out of my family. I don’t owe you a damn thing.”

“What about Isabella?”

“Like I said, I want custody. Full custody.”

“That’s never going to happen, Grant. She’s not yours.”

“It’ll happen. My name is on her birth certificate, and to make sure that never changes, I’ll give you one million to sign away all your maternal rights to me.”

“Her father—”

“Has never been a father to her. He knew all along and she was right there,” I seethe. “Miles is no better than you, using her to his benefit. He’s not her father. I am. I don’t care what blood runs through her veins. She’s mine. I loved her. I raised her. I held her when she cried and I wiped her tears. When she’s older, old enough to understand, I’ll tell her the truth about all of you. Until that time, you stay away or you both will find yourselves in jail. Am I clear?”

“One million?”

She’s considering it based on her expression. I can almost see the cogs moving in that brain of hers. She’s calculating what she can do with one million dollars.

“Yes, and not a penny more.”

“One million isn’t nearly enough to survive.”

“It’s more than you deserve. Invest wisely, Chelsea, because you won’t get a penny more from me.”

She huffs.

“One million. You stay the hell out of my life and you don’t contest me as Isabella’s father. It’s that or jail. You choose, but I’m running out of patience.”

I watch as her shoulders fall in resignation. She’s not happy, but what choice does she really have? She can’t live without the money and she wouldn’t last a day in jail. Let’s not forget how cramped her life would become if she actually had to take care of her child.

“Fine. I’ll take it,” she bites through her teeth.

“Leave.”

“You’re kicking me out of The L?” Her eyes are wide. How in the hell could she have thought I’d allow her to keep her job here?

“Our time is up, Chelsea. Every aspect of this relationship is over.”

“Now you’re divorcing me?”

I laugh haughtily. “It’s been a long time coming. Now get out so I can celebrate the end of my time in hell.”

Her mouth drops open. The reality of the situation finally sinks in. We’re through. Her reign at The L and over me is through. She stands on shaky legs, beginning to gather her things.

“You can leave all that here. It belongs to The L and you’re no longer a part of it.”

She goes still, looking lost and confused for the first time ever. I’ve never seen her so forlorn. It’s a different Chelsea entirely. She almost looks . . . human.

A tear falls down her cheek and then another.

I might’ve actually felt bad for her, but then I remember she just signed over the rights to her child for a measly one million dollars and all sympathy is lost.

“Go,” I say in a softer tone, not needing to kick her any farther although she deserves it.

Without a word, she slithers out the door and out of my life for good.





I resigned from The L and was given a letter of recommendation that will land me any job I want, as promised.

And I haven’t heard from Grant.

I bury myself with various other hobbies but can’t seem to concentrate on anything. I won’t let Olivia speak of what’s happening with Grant, but from the little I heard, I know that Spencer and him along with his father have reconciled. Hearing about him is bittersweet, and normally leads to a tear-filled sob fest with my sisters. Lynn keeps telling me time will heal my wounds, but I don’t believe her.

Just because Lynn and Olivia have their fairy tales doesn’t mean it will happen for the rest of us. If I’m being honest, I’m sick of hearing it from them. Their words of wisdom are much the same and never help. Nothing will. My life is dull without Grant, and that’s a fact I can’t live with.

I hear a knocking at the door and jump up to grab it. Lynn is annoyingly consistent with her pounding when I don’t answer. My head can’t take it today.

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