Page 37 of His Reward (Omegas After Dark: Omega Auction #2)

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Lucien

I’d had it. I’d endured more than seven months of the worst pain I’d ever felt in my life and the crippling uncertainty of who I was and what I was going to do with the rest of my life.

I’d watched the man who should have been close to me, someone I could rely on and turn to in my darkest hour, use my pain and my celebrity for his own gain.

I’d had one life fold under me and a new, amazing one grow up in its place.

I’d be damned if I’d let my father continue to drag me down.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded once I reached my father.

He stood near the ballroom door, still chatting with Oliver’s coach, Etienne duBois. Father wore his usual, self-satisfied look, as if he’d planned the entire ball all by himself. Fortunately, Etienne didn’t seem all that happy to be trapped there, listening to whatever my father had to say.

“I beg your pardon?” my father demanded, looking at me as if I’d had the nerve to embarrass him in front of a friend.

“You weren’t invited, Father,” I said. Out of the corner of my eyes, I noticed Boston and my mom come to stand on either side of me, though they let me take the lead on everything that needed to be said.

“You specifically weren’t invited. This is a fundraiser for Boston’s firehouse, not an opportunity for you to waltz in here pretending that you’re the one in charge of everything. ”

Father stared at me for a moment, his eyes wide and his jaw clenched in fury. Then he laughed and turned to Etienne. “You must excuse Lucien. The fire and his resulting injuries have made him over emotional and volatile. I can assure you, he’s in therapy.”

I felt Boston’s anger mingle with my own through our bond, which made it next to impossible to hold myself back from what needed to be said.

But before I could give my father the blasting that he deserved, Mom stepped forward and said, “I have had more than enough of your lies, Pietro. I’m sorry, Etienne,” she nodded to Etienne considerately, then rounded on Father again.

“Ever since the boys were little, you’ve pushed and manipulated them for your own gain. ”

“I’ve done nothing of the sort,” Father argued, putting on that look of shocked indignation he wore whenever anyone questioned his absolute superiority.

“The boys wanted to skate. They took to the ice like they were born for it. Considering the genes, they were born for it. I’ve never pushed them into anything. ”

“Yes, I’ve always wanted to skate,” I stepped in, ready to stand and defend my ground. “That’s the point. All I’ve ever wanted to do was skate. I love skating, and the fire didn’t change any of that.”

It felt so good to say those words out loud.

For months now, I’d been questioning who I was, who this new, scarred and less flexible version of Lucien Monteverdi was.

Being with Boston, going through my second heat with him and remembering how I liked to feel at the hands of an alpha, had reminded me about one part of myself that I worried I’d never see again.

Standing there in that ballroom with a growing crowd of people watching, even as they tried to look like they weren’t watching, reminded me of a wealth of other things about myself.

“I’m sure you’ll always love skating,” Father said, stumbling through his words a little and glancing to Etienne, as if the other coach would back him up. “But even you have to admit you’re not physically capable of it anymore. Omegas are weak and easily broken.”

“That absolutely isn’t true,” Boston came to my defense. “I’m standing here with two of the strongest, bravest omegas I know.”

It made me warm inside to feel his pride in me, but it was beyond wonderful to see the way he smiled at my mom and included her on the podium of people he was proud of. I would have done just about anything for Boston right then.

My father’s smug expression dropped, and he darted a look around, seemingly surprised that no one who was listening in on the conversation appeared anywhere close to taking his side.

“Alright, alright,” he said, raising his hands defensively.

“If you’re so insistent on wanting to give skating a try again, I guess I am willing to coach you.

But if I’m not convinced that you’re in gold medal shape by the end of this year—”

“I don’t want you coaching me,” I told my father, staring him in the eyes. “I don’t ever want you coming anywhere near me or my skating career ever again.”

Father looked like I’d punched him in the gut. “But I’m the only coach you’ve ever had. I’ve made you who you are, who you were. If you’re going to try the impossible and skate again, I should be the one—”

“To take all the credit?” Mom cut him off this time. “To pretend like you’re the only reason either of our sons made it to the top of the figure skating world? That’s balderdash, Pietro, and you know it.”

“I am the best coach figure skating has ever seen,” my father snapped.

Etienne jerked back in offense. A few of the others around us who weren’t even trying to pretend they weren’t listening smirked and murmured to each other.

“Lucien has raw talent,” Mom went on. “How many times over the years have you told me that he’s the best natural talent you’ve ever seen?”

“Only because I brought that talent out in him,” Father argued.

“I’ve worked hard,” I said, throwing my shoulders back. I didn’t even mind the pull and itch under my scars that came with the gesture. “And nothing is going to stop me from working hard again.”

“Hear, hear!” Jennifer exclaimed, rushing up and wedging herself into the argument. “I can see it now. We’ll do a fabulous piece all about Lucien Monteverdi’s return to skating glory. It’ll start with the fire and move on to—”

“You aren’t going to have any part of this,” Boston stopped her.

I was starting to really love the way the three of us were banding together to stop the arrogant nonsense of the people who had tried to manipulate my life without letting them spread more manure around over the mess they’d already made.

“You misrepresented everything both Lucien and I said in the interviews we gave this past winter. You used a fraction of our interviews and spliced everything out of context to make it look like we’d said something else entirely. ”

“Jennifer, is that true?” Etienne asked.

It was almost laughable the way Jennifer swallowed hard and went on the defensive. “They signed consent forms. They gave permission for me to use the footage in whatever way I thought was best.”

“She misrepresented us at best and outright manipulated us at worst,” I told Etienne.

“That’s a serious problem,” Etienne said.

I could have gone on to talk about all the ways Jennifer had compromised herself as a journalist and done things that could have gotten her sued, but in almost laughable style, my father had to drag the conversation back around to himself.

“I approved the final cut of that human-interest piece,” he said.

“There wasn’t a single lie in it. You’re dating the firefighter who rescued you.

As far as I know, the two of you are living together.

Are you going to deny that there’s a wedding and a family in your future, just like I said there would be? ”

A twist of upset hit me. Did my father know about the baby?

But no, of course he didn’t. The only person Boston and I had told outside of the firehouse was my mom, and there was no way in hell she’d breathe a word to my dad.

“My and Boston’s personal life is none of your business,” I told my father. “My public life is none of your business either. Nor yours, Jennifer. If you say or print anything further about my life without my written permission, I’ll sue you for libel.”

“What? You can’t do that,” Jennifer protested. “I’m figure skating’s most beloved commentator.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Etienne said. “Not after what I’m hearing today.”

“Lucien, stop acting like a fool,” my father said, shifting into his scolding voice, the one that was designed to make everyone around him feel like naughty children.

“This is ridiculous. If you want to skate again, fine. Come back to the rink on Monday. I’ll see if there’s anything that can be done to resurrect what you once had. ”

“No, Father,” I said, a strange sense of calm coming over me.

I was done with Pietro Monteverdi. I didn’t want him involved in my career and I didn’t want him to be a part of my life anymore.

“I’m going no-contact with you. Please leave this event before I have to call someone to remove you.

You, too, Jennifer. Neither of you were invited. ”

“You can’t do this,” Father said.

“Do you need a little help here?” Benny Kincade said, stepping into the confrontation with his shoulders squared, looking every inch the powerful alpha.

He then smiled at my father and Jennifer and said, “Hi, I’m Benny Kincade, the owner and manager of Kincade Slopes, and both of you are now officially banned from ever setting foot on my property again.

Which, of course, means you’re trespassing on my property.

Can I escort you to your cars or would you rather I call the police? ”

I’d never been so grateful to an alpha I barely knew in my life. Jennifer was clearly intimidated by him. My father looked like he might argue with the man for a moment, but with a final, sour look at me, Boston, and Mom, he turned abruptly and stormed out, Jennifer following him.

Behind me, Oliver started applauding. Giovanni quickly joined in, more interested in Oliver than the fight. When I and a bunch of the others who were watching turned to the two of them with flat or incredulous stares, they stopped.

“What?” Oliver asked, still grinning, even though he’d lowered his hands. “That was awesome. We should definitely be applauding you.”