Page 59

LIA

T his was the moment I’d always longed for. To be near Rhaim, in public. The whole world getting to see me claim him.

I knew I couldn’t lean into him, or lounge on him, or bat my eyes too much more, but after having to be away from him for so long, getting to hold onto his elbow felt like that moment when Mr. Darcy got to hold Elizabeth’s hand.

And when we got to the bar, he led me forward before letting me go. “Do you have champagne?” I asked the bartender.

“Bollinger, or Laurent-Perrier?”

“The Laurent, please,” I said.

“Hmm,” Rhaim asked, as I turned back around to rejoin him, glass in hand. “Is there something worth celebrating tonight, Miss Ferreo?”

I smiled at him, about to tell him my good news, when I spotted my Uncle. He was looking away from me, but there was no doubt he would see me, and when he did, he would come my direction.

“Don’t leave me, okay?” I whispered to Rhaim, just at the same time as Senior’s head swiveled toward me.

Rhaim’s shoulders straightened. “Of course not,” he whispered right back.

My Uncle smiled wolfishly—up until he saw who I was standing by.

“Oh, not this asshole,” I heard Rhaim mutter to himself, and then felt him brace, ready to take Senior on.

Without knowing a single, solitary thing, about our history.

Or—how I was certain now, that this horrible man coming up, was my real father.

“Lia! Look how much you’ve grown!” My uncle exclaimed, coming in, holding his arms out, like he was going to hug me—and I swung my champagne in front of myself like it was a magic wand.

“I don’t think so,” Rhaim said, covering for me. “Not as long as you oppose Lia’s addition to Corvo’s board.”

That set Freddie Sr back, and he blinked at Rhaim, before frowning at me. It was clear this was not how he thought this interaction was going to go. “Her own father doesn’t want her on it.”

“And you hate Nero, mostly, so—” Rhaim said, in a leading fashion, and Senior snorted.

“Bold of you to call me out on it at his own birthday party.”

Rhaim shrugged. “Neither of us are the type to put on gloves before we box.”

“I don’t know what kind of leverage you think you have here, on me, Selvaggio—we both know Nero’s sick, and once he’s gone, Corvo’s mine.”

“True,” Rhaim said, shrugging again, before narrowing his eyes.

“But Nicholas Samson is in my pocket—I brought him to the table. And? While I hear you’d like to fire me, if you did, I think I might accidentally have to provide some very interesting reading material to the SEC, regarding Corvo’s history. ”

My uncle’s jaw clenched. “Are you…threatening me?” he asked, doing his best to loom.

But he was only a decade younger than my father, and he’d let himself go south—the monster that visited my bedroom and that dragged me into darkness in my childhood—the one I’d been so certain I could never escape—he wasn’t here.

He existed only in my memories.

This man, twisted and awful and guilty as fuck—wasn’t him anymore.

And he didn’t control me.

“Nah,” Rhaim said, quickly shaking his head, before reaching over to clink his cocktail against my champagne glass. “We both are.” And then he grinned, first at me, and then at my Uncle, who was visibly angry. “Have a nice night, Freddie,” Rhaim said, before moving to lead me away.

And once he did—I looked back and waved.