Page 46 of Blackwood

“How long does it take to open afreaking present, Bella? If you think you can skip out on our—”

She freezes mid-step. Eyes landing on Daddy. Then drifting to Zeke. Then back again. Her face twisting slowly, like her brain is buffering.

“Oh my God. Is this some sort of weird age-gap, forbidden brother kink?” She gestures wildly between Daddy and Zeke. “Because I know I said we wantedscandalbut damn girl this is a bit much, even for me.”

Nate and Tex rush in behind her, scowling. “We tried to stop her.”

Ellie just walks over and points a French-tipped finger at Daddy, “Seriously. Who is that?”

“Ellie,” I say voice a little shaky. “This is my dad.”

Ellie stares, eyes narrowing like the math isn’t quite mathing. “Your what?”

“My dad.”

“Yeah, heard that. But I thought you were an orphan. Grew up in foster care and met Batman over there during it?”

“I am,” I say quietly. “This is my foster dad. Well… my first foster dad.”

Ellie throws her hands up. “Okay, no. There is so much more to this story than any of you are letting on. Spill it. Now.”

I look at Zeke and shrug. “She deserves to know. I’m going to be living with her soon at Rosethorne. I can’t keep it a secret forever.”

Zeke shakes his head, one hand dragging down his face. “She’s the last person we should loop into this,” he mutters. “Trust fund socialite with a verified account and a phone addiction. That’s a liability waiting to happen.”

“Hey, I can keep a secret,” Ellie snaps, stepping forward, arms crossed. “Just because my selfies get more likes than your brooding ever will doesn’t mean I can’t handle classified intel.”

“Sweetheart, your version of classified intel is which investment banker’s son took you to dinner before ghosting you.”

“At least I get asked to dinner,” she says, lifting her chin. “When’s the last time you actually got laid? You’re so tightly wound it’s a miracle you haven’t combusted.”

“Careful, Whitmore. You poke the bear too many times and he starts thinking you want to be chased.”

“God help us all,” Tex mutters and makes for the whiskey.

“That’s enough you two,” I sigh. “Ellie sit down,” I say, motioning to the couch.

She drops onto the cushions with the grace of someone expecting tea and war.

I take a breath. “This is Henry. My first foster dad. He and his wife Elise got me when I was a baby. They raised me in Arkansas. It was… happy. They were amazing. But then Elise got sick. Cancer.”

I take a deep breath and push through. “She died when I was ten. And because of some screwed-up paperwork, CPS came and took me.”

I glance at Daddy who looks like he wants to set fire to the world all over again.“They dropped me in Miami. New family. It was… not amazing.”

“Foster dad was a fucking monster,” Zeke adds flatly.

I nod. “Yeah. So, long story short, Zeke and I met. He figured out a way to get us out. We ran. Came to New York and built a new life.”

Ellie’s brows are practically in her hairline. “Wait wait wait, so you’re telling me you grew up happy, got stolen by the government, dumped off with a psychopath, broke out with yourhacker brother, and now live in a secret Gotham penthouse with Armani Batman and his two henchmen.”

She looks over to Daddy.

“Then you get this very emotionally loaded, Daddy-daughter reunion and no one thought to come upstairs and get me?”

“Basically, yeah.”

“She left out the part where she stabbed a guy with a pencil at fourteen.”