Page 60 of Worth Every Moment (Hawkston Billionaires #4)

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I bang on the door to my father’s house. Once, twice. Three times.

Nothing .

Fucker’s probably still asleep.

I pace on the veranda, palm trees waving in the breeze. It would be idyllic if I were in any state to appreciate it. What the hell was he thinking, bringing Diana here?

I’m about to thump on the door again when it opens. A uniformed member of staff, the butler I assume, opens the door, but I don’t give him a chance to speak before I shove past him.

“My father. Where is he?”

The butler trots behind me. “He’s not to be disturbed, sir.”

“Fuck that.” I grab the banister and swing up onto the first step, racing up the stairs to where I know his bedroom is. “Dad?”

The butler follows me up, muttering about the fact I shouldn’t be here.

On the first floor landing, a door creaks open. My mother steps out into the hallway, blonde hair in soft waves around her face, a silk gown wrapped around her.

She opens her arms wide, a weak smile quivering on her lips. “Sebastian. My blue-eyed boy. My baby.”

Her eyes are glazed, and she can’t read the emotional temperature.

She can’t tell that I’m furious. I want to shove past her too, but I remind myself it’s not her I’m mad at.

I let her embrace me, and she’s frail as she wraps her arms around me.

Each vertebrae on her spine stands out through her robe as I return her hug.

“Where’s Dad?”

She cups my face in her hands. “You get more handsome every time I see you. Such a beautiful boy.”

“Dad,” I repeat. “Where is he?”

“He’s busy.” Her focus drifts off. “You know how he is. Always busy.”

I extricate myself from her hold and pace down the hall towards Dad’s suite. If he’s in the house, he’ll be there.

Mum follows me, the butler following her, both of them traipsing after me like lemmings.

My mind is a blur, emotion rocking to the forefront as I approach his room.

I don’t know what I’ll say or if this is the best way to handle the situation.

It’s almost certainly not, but I’m not in a state to think clearly.

I bang on the door. “Dad?”

Mum is right behind me, clinging to my shoulders, her fingers thin. Old. Beneath the rage, pity gathers like a stagnant, helpless pool. I can’t save her, not when I need to do this for me. For Erica. I try to shrug her off. “Not now, Mum.”

“You haven’t said hello. My baby hasn’t said—”

The door opens and Dad stands there, looking far healthier than when I saw him last. Damn . He looks me up and down. “Fuck do you want?”

“The Marchettis are here? Diana’s here?”

Dad’s eyes widen, shooting to Mum over my shoulder, then taking in the butler who’s also lingering in the hall. “Take her away,” he instructs, and the butler nods and ushers Mum away, her shoulders sloping as she trudges back down the corridor without another word.

“You invited the Marchettis here? To the wedding?” The words burst out unrestrained. Angry . “You said four months. You said I had—”

“You’ve been fucking about. Publicly cavorting with another woman. It was jeopardizing the deal. I had to bring it forward.”

“I’m not doing it. You can fucking ruin me, destroy my reputation, but I won’t do it.”

His left eye twitches. “Is it the woman? The one who wants to be an actress?”

“Erica. Yes. I love her. I won’t give her up.”

He sneers. “Actresses are little more than prostitutes. Everyone knows that.” A cruel laugh cracks from his lips. “But that’s always been your type, hasn’t it?”

A bomb goes off in my chest, radiating a toxic heat. I clench my fists, trying to hold it in. “You’re lucky I don’t carry a gun, because I’d blow your fucking brains out for that.”

He gives me a pitying look. “No, you wouldn’t. Not you, Sebastian. You couldn’t pull the trigger.”

My fingers flex. “I hope your next heart attack kills you.”

“Always such a sweet boy,” he says with false sincerity.

“Fuck you. I won’t do it. I won’t marry Diana, and I’ll tell Erica everything. Whatever you put out in the press about me, whatever story you spin, she’ll understand. I know she will.”

A sly smile crosses his face. “No one loves you that much, Sebastian. Don’t fool yourself. Although I can see why you think a glorified prostitute is all you deserve.”

I shove him, not caring that he’s older and weaker than I am. He staggers back into the room, hocking up little bursts of laughter like phlegm from the back of his throat as he goes. “Maybe if you killed me, you’d finally be a man.”

I can’t hold back any longer. I reach around his throat and force him back against the wall.

We stumble awkwardly, knocking against a table.

A lamp goes flying, shattering into pieces.

I thump him against the wall. Hope his spine breaks .

The wall shudders and his shoulder knocks a framed mirror to the floor. The crash is almighty. Explosive .

I barely notice, focusing on the way my fingers close around his throat, throttling him.

“Stop!” My mother’s voice, more lucid than I’ve heard it in years, slices through the room. In my peripheral vision, she flaps towards us like an unruly bird.

“Mrs Hawkston,” comes the shrill voice of the butler.

Dad’s choking and spluttering in my hands. He’s not the man he used to be. Physically, I’m stronger. If I wanted to, I could kill him with my bare hands. And I do fucking want to. But then he would win. I’d have his blood on my hands and his death on my conscience, and I’d end up in prison anyway.

I glance over my shoulder to where Mum is standing, her hands clutched to her mouth. “Please, let him go.”

Understanding spreads like sickness in my body, attacking each and every cell.

It doesn’t matter how badly he treats her, she will always choose him over me.

It doesn’t matter that I’m her blue-eyed boy, her baby, the darling son she wanted to hold on to.

In this family, she’ll always choose Dad because there is no room for any other response.

No one says no to my father . But she doesn’t deserve this—to have to witness the near murder of the man she chose to marry by her own son—not on top of everything else she’s endured over the years.

I release him, and he strokes his throat with one hand. “Good boy,” he croaks, and I want to fucking kill him all over again.

In the silence that follows, Mum teeters up on her tiptoes, clasping her hands before her. “Your father says you’re getting married. We’re very excited,” she says, although she sounds more terrified than excited. The butler stares at the floor as if he can neither hear nor see any of us.

“I’m not getting married. Whatever you’ve heard, it’s bullshit. Sorry to disappoint.”

“But Diana is so lovely. So pretty. Such a charming girl. She’d be such a wonderful society wife.”

Revulsion roars through me like a tidal wave. A society wife.

“If you don’t obey me—” Dad begins, reminding me of the threat he wielded over me weeks ago.

“Fuck this. No.” Rage has tremors running through me.

“I’m not going to do what you want. I am fucking done with you, and if you want to come after me, go ahead.

Publish whatever the fuck you want about me.

I’ll fight you on it. And I will fucking win.

But please, for the love of God, wait until after the wedding.

Don’t be a selfish bastard. This is Kate and Nico’s time. Don’t ruin it.”

I turn to leave, glancing at my mother as I pass, wondering how the fuck she stayed married to him all these years. Small wonder she numbed out completely with the nearest bottle of alcohol.

“Sebastian.” I’m nearly at the door when my name yanks at me like a hand on my collar, and I halt, turning back to my father. “You’ll regret this.”

I stand tall, meeting his gaze head on. “I will never regret choosing Erica.”