Page 60 of Dangerous Intent

I stood and came around the desk. “You put up with Dad for a really long time.”

“Longer than I needed to.”

“You stayed as long as you did because of me, but I know you weren’t happy those last few years.”

My father was never going to let my mother walk out with me. She waited until I was old enough before she finally left.

“You know,” she said softly, her manicured fingers brushing my cheek, “I should have taken you away sooner. I should have found a way.”

“You did what you could,” I said, but my voice wavered. I wasn’t sure I believed it.

“I don’t regret being here with you.” She glanced around the room. “I love this house. Not all the memories were bad.”

“I remember the good times.”

“Your father and I were happy before he became so obsessed with power and money.”

“He took care of you in his will,” I said.

“He was more generous than I thought he would be.”

“He knew how expensive you are.” I couldn’t hold a candle to my mother’s shopping sprees, and that was saying something. “I wanted you to have something else. Something that I don’t need or want.”

“What is it?”

“This house.” I handed her the envelope. “I signed it over to you.”

“What? Why?” She took the envelope.

“You just said you loved this house.”

“I love all the memories of raising you here. All the birthdays and holidays.” She smiled. “The pool parties.”

“They were epic.”

“This is your house.” She stared at the envelope. “You can’t give it to me.”

“I already have.” This house was more hers than it would ever be mine. “I have a life with Marchello. I don’t need this house. You can sell it if you want and take the money and buy another one. I don’t care. I just want you to have stability.”

“That’s sweet of you.” She took my hand. “I don’t know what happened to your father these last few years, but I know he loved you.”

“Ma.” I shook my head. “I don’t want to talk about him. I can’t get past the whole sex trafficking thing.”

“That was pretty awful. I would have killed him myself for that if I had known.”

“If you decide to stay, maybe we can renovate. A project we could do together.”

“I think that’s perfect.” She stood and hugged me. “I’ve been wanting to redecorate for years, but with the divorce and his new girlfriend, I figured it was inappropriate to ask.”

“Inappropriateness never stopped you.”

“I guess if it’s my house, it’s no longer wrong to start fresh here.” She let go of me. “I have a ton of very expensive ideas.”

“We’ll start as soon as I get back.”

“Back from where?” she asked. “Where are you going?”

“To Miami.”