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“Then what?”

“You. That’s what.” She leans closer to me, and her perfume hits me with unexpected melancholy.

Frowning, I push away the memory of airport drop offs, one-sided conversations while she primped and everything in between.

“You know I was born into this,” she states casually. Too casually for someone of her background.

My mother is the offspring of one of the founding families for The Lost Rose Society. She’s the second generation of her family born into it and my father marrying her was the biggest come up of his life.

My dad’s father was a first-generation member and did well for himself and his family by working in real estate. He started as an agent and became a broker after my father was born. More than half of Wildwood was in his pocket which made him an asset to The Society.

But while my grandfather on my dad’s side was well off, my mother came from oil money. Her family runs refineriesout in the Midwest with pipelines that span across state lines. And most people wouldn’t be able to pick them out in a room. That kind of faceless power is dangerous, and my family has always used it to their advantage.

“All I’m saying is that so much of my life was chosen for me. Before I was even born. I resented that but I shouldn’t have made it your problem. I didn’t want kids because I didn’t want them to end up like me.”

Her slender fingers wrap around the stem of her glass.

“I kept my distance, and we see how that went.” She draws in a dramatic breath. “Maybe in another lifetime, I’ll get it right. Because I never wanted this for you. I never wanted you to be someone cold and distant. Someone who killed to solve your problems. But by the time I realized that’s exactly who you are, it was too late. You became your own person, and you were ruthless. You didn’t need us, and it was our fault.”

On the table, a notification pops up on my phone screen, reminding me of my next meeting. I have half an hour to eat and get across town.

But my usual urgency abandons me, and I hold eye contact with the woman across from me.

In her eyes, I might be cold and distant. But what she doesn’t understand is that Delilah makes me feel the opposite. I love her too much to keep being a bystander in my own life. I never had that before. Someone who made me want to disrupt the script and write a new ending. I didn’t know people like her existed.

“Your father told me what you did. With Samuel.” Her face brightens for the first time since we greeted each other. “At first, I couldn’t believe you fell in love with someone who made you so destructive.”

“Protective.”

She clucks her tongue at my amendment. “Yeah, well…either way, I thought there was no way it was a good thing. But what choice did we give you? We’d been pulling your strings since you got here, and you played along for a while. And when I framed it that way, I was proud of you for knowing exactly what you wanted and fighting for it.”

Unexpectedly, a sentimental feeling tries to crowd my chest. It’s the first time in thirty-four years I’ve heard her say she’s proud of me. That shit is sad, not worth the pounding in my heart.

“I know those words don’t mean much from me, but I am proud of you, Adonis. And I love you. I’m sorry I wasn’t the mother you needed. I won’t make any more excuses for it.” She checks her nails, remorse knitting her brows, “I hope you live a life you’re proud of with the woman you love. You deserve it. Nothing will happen to you. I won’t let them touch you.”

“What?”

“The Society. They won’t touch you,” she clarifies. “I have more sway than I use. Before anything else, you’re my flesh and blood. My son. You need to know nobody is going to lay a hand on you without losing it.”

“Mom—”

“I mean it, Adonis. Somebody on our family tree deserves to end up with someone they cherish. And it’s clear you cherish that woman.” A somber smile appears on her face. “I’m sorry for what I said to her when we met at the gala. I’d love to have lunch with her one of these days.”

A snort slips out before I can contain it. The thought of Delilah sitting down to share a meal with my mom is nightmare fuel. And not because I think Delilah can’t handleherself around her. She’d annihilate my mother. “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now. Things are still too…fresh.”

Adriana doesn’t bat an eye. “Well, we have time. I can tell she isn’t going anywhere.”

Chapter 51

New Leaf?

DELILAH

A FEW DAYS LATER

I’m not healed enough for this.

Instead of hitting the arrow to send the message, I click the button on the side of my phone to black out the screen.