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I steel my jaw and void my expression, holstering the nine at my torso.

“Aight, you made your point. I’m going back to work.”

A deep, authoritative voice calls after me. “Make some time to call that future wife of yours and make this right. We don’t need bad blood leading up to the wedding. Fix this, Donny.”

I don’t know if he’s still in the lobby when I make it to my office and I don’t care.

What he doesn’t know is that I’ve been trying to reach Chiara every day for the past week but she’s not taking the bait.

And it’ll stay like that as long as it needs to because I’m not chasing that woman around the globe when I know she’s happy with someone else. I don’t care how it looks to anybody not in my shoes right now. The only thing I care about is finding a way around our agreement. There has to be something she wants that I can offer in exchange for not marrying her.

Settling my thumb over the sensor to wake up my computer, I run through my impromptu conversation with my dad.

At the end of the day, I know his need for me to fix our riff stems from the Duprees being his largest whiskey vendor at his cigar bar. But the Duprees won’t fuck up their biggest account to prove a point. They can’t afford it.

And I can’t afford to lose Delilah.

Chapter 39

Unresolved

DELILAH

Itold Adonis I wanted him to help me meet Elodie, and here I am, two weeks later, no closer than I was that day at brunch.

Every time he asks me about arranging a trip to Raleigh, I find a way to bob and weave my way to another topic.

“Maybe you should start by texting her, menace,” he’d said last night.

But even the thought of opening a dialogue with her made my stomach ache with indecision. All the work I had Victor do just for the file to sit on my bedside collecting dust for the past two weeks.

Make no mistake, I’m not excited to see or hear from this woman. For years, I told myself I didn’t blame her for leaving. I understand why anybody would want to get away from my father. But the part of me who’s glad she got away as a wife is the same part of me who resents her as a mother.

Why did she get to be free of his wrath but not the children she created with him?

A bitter taste on my tongue robs me of the fruity flavor of my mango popsicle, so I set it down in a bowl and lean forward on the kitchen island as Titus sniffs around my feet.

“Ms. Agnes?”

She smiles at me but continues mixing cake batter. “Yes, sunshine?”

“Did you make a conscious decision not to have kids?”

Her nod comes without hesitation. “Yeah. I knew I would always be a good aunt, but I was terrified of having my own kids. I worked in childcare and helped my sister raise my nieces after her husband passed. That was enough for me.”

In silence, I watch her transfer the batter to two round cake pans, wishing my mother had the same presence of mind. Knowing my father, that choice was probably taken from her though.

“Why do you ask, sunshine?”

“My mother reached out to me, and I thought I wanted to meet her. Or at least talk to her. But…” I shake my head. “I don’t know if that’s meant to be.”

“Why not?”

“Because why is she popping up now?” I huff a frustrated breath and see the sympathy playing across her face. “Sorry, I just…”

“You don’t have to apologize to me.” Wiping down the rims of the cake pans, she shoots me a meaningful look. “I hear you, Delilah. Loud and clear.”

For a second, I contemplate my next confession. “This is gonna sound crazy, but I used to fantasize about both of myparents apologizing to me just so I could reject it.” I laugh at my own naivety.