Page 26 of Illicit Games

“I only care about your opinion.”

“You need to tell Nathan the truth.”

“No. It’s better this way. That legacy was always his to take. If hating me fuels him to succeed, then I’m perfectly happy being the villain.”

At least I was until today.

“Listen to me, Kian,” Iris reasons. “He thinks you abandoned him. Unless you confess, he’ll continue to believe itwas something he did that made you cut him off. He’s angry and it’s half the reason he’s unwilling to cancel the wedding.”

“That’s not why.” She frowns. I hate upsetting her, but she has to know. “Our grandfather left a will that states that the heir who marries first will become the chairperson of the board of directors and receive the inheritance. It also dictates the type of woman we need to marry.”

“So what? I fit some criteria?”

“Yes.” Each revelation digs the knife deeper into her back. “It’s why he isn’t letting you go.”

“I can’t believe this.”

“He feels threatened that I will fight him for it.”

“He’s wrong. You’d never do that.”

“If only he believed that.”

“Why would your grandfather put this condition though?” she asks in a puzzled tone. “Wouldn’t he wish for an opposite girl?”

“I think he didn’t want us to turn out like our father. Or let him choose the girl for us to marry. For all we know, he probably wanted to control us from the grave. While my dadu accepted me, he was an authoritative man, Iris. Nothing in the family happened without his approval.”

“It makes senses then.”

We both go quiet, absorbing the murky past of my family. I pull her against my chest and bury my face against her neck. Raising my hand to her lips, she kisses it before lacing our fingers together.

Every time I’ve thought about my childhood, a sense of unease thrums beneath my skin. Yet with Iris, a peaceful stillness is all I feel.

Ever so softly, she says, “I still think you should tell him. Both of you need closure.”

“He doesn’t want to listen to me,” I reply, resting my chin on her shoulder. “I don’t think he’d even believe a word I say. He’ll ask for proof. Besides my word, I have nothing to show him.”

“Do you know who your biological mother is?”

“No.”

“Do you want to?”

“The woman wanted nothing to do with me, so I never bothered searching for her. I also don’t want to ask my father, not that he’d tell me. Having lived through one parent’s rejection, I’ve lost the desire to go through it again.”

“Maybe you should look for her,” suggests Iris.

Her cryptic tone raises my ire. I tense, twisting her to face me. “Why?”

“You’re wrong about her not wanting to be in your life. Your father forced her out, like he did to you.” Swallowing nervously, she tilts my earth on its axis. “I know who your mother is, Kian.”

Chapter Eight

Iris

I barely finished my sentence when Kian lifts me off his lap and places me gently next to him. Standing up, he pushes a hand through his short strands and begins to pace in front of me.

Springing to my feet, I grab his elbow to force him to look at me.