Page 5 of The Feud

Right into the chest of Henry Mardraggon, fired by Elizabeth’s father, who had been aiming at the elder Mardraggon.

Edward Mardraggon’s own bullet went wide as he aimed at James, lodging in a door casing.

Henry died instantly.

Beautiful, heartbroken, ruined Elizabeth took a little longer to die. Two weeks after Henry was buried, she hung herself under the rafters of the grape arbor where Henry had proposed to her.

Both families blamed the other for their children’s deaths. No one ever talked again about the rumors surrounding Elizabeth and whether they were true, for it hardly mattered. Two precious lives were gone, and two families entered into a war that some say raged hotter than the one between the North and South.

“A paternity test is simple enough,” Wade says. The youngest of the three Blackburn brothers, he’s the most even-keeled. He brings logic to this conversation. “Let’s assume you are Sylvie’s father. What are you going to do?”

“He’s going to take his daughter,” Kat exclaims, tossing a chastising glare at Wade. “Of course, he’s going to take her and raise her and she’s going to be a Blackburn.”

“Except she’s a Mardraggon.” Trey drums his fingers on his knee, one booted foot propped on his knee. “She’s been a Mardraggon for her entire life. She’s been raised by those morons and therefore she’s probably—”

I wheel around and growl. “Don’t even finish that thought.”

It goes silent, none of my siblings willing to risk my ire. I truly don’t know what Trey is about to say, but if it’s going to in any way disparage my supposed daughter, some unknown force of protectiveness has welled inside of me, unwilling to let anyone say a bad word about a girl who may be my blood.

Glancing at my watch, I see it’s still unfeasible to reach our parents, currently vacationing in New Zealand. Being as they’re on the other side of the world, it’s the dead of night there. I called and left a voicemail as well as sent a text, and the mere fact they’ve not responded means they’re deep in slumber. I need their advice and I’ll get it eventually. But right now, it’s helpful to have my siblings here brainstorming the issue.

It’s not like there are a lot of decisions to make. Wade is correct. It’s a very simple matter of paternity and if it’s determined that Sylvie is mine, she’ll come live with us.

I ruminate on Alaine’s letter.

Dear Ethan,

I know this letter and Mr. Gillam’s visit are going to come as a shock and I first and foremost need to apologize for keeping our daughter a secret from you. It is my only hope that you can understand my reasons for doing so. At the heart of the matter is our families’ deep hatred for one another. I’d like to say our one evening together was a mistake, but it gave me Sylvie, so how could that ever be true?

Given the animosity we shared and the fact I lived in a different country, it was easier not to tell you. But I’m dying and that means I have to be truthful, not just with you but myself, and I admit that I was also selfish. I didn’t want to share Sylvie, nor did I want to deal with the scabs that would keep getting ripped off the wounds our families continue giving each other.

Cancer is the great equalizer. It’s made me really think about what is best for our daughter. I love my family, but I know they are not without faults. I believe some of those faults could be detrimental to Sylvie. I can’t say that I know you very well. I was taught to hate your family. All I know is that I don’t want Sylvie to grow up under my parents’ influence.

I believe Sylvie is best left under your care. You have the strength and fortitude to stand up to the Mardraggons. She comes with a large trust fund which includes controlling interest in the winery. My parents are going to fight you hard for her. Please stand strong. Raise her with the same love I gave her. Do right by our daughter.

If you don’t, I will come back to haunt you.

Sincerely,

Alaine Mardraggon

“Why in the hell would she keep that secret?” Wade muses.

Kat nods at the letter in her hand. “There’s a lot of money involved. The Mardraggons would automatically assume we’d try to make a play for it.”

“Because they’re assholes,” Trey mutters.

I don’t disagree. Look it up in any thesaurus and asshole is synonymous with Mardraggon. Even after the original feud that split the families apart, the Mardraggons took any opportunity they could to try to ruin the Blackburns. Throughout our entangled histories, if there was a chance to knock our family down, the Mardraggons were behind it. Of course, we aren’t without backbone and will use any opportunity we can to take that family down a peg or two.

Trey isn’t wrong. I can’t trust anything Alaine wrote in that letter. I’ll demand a paternity test and that will probably put all of this nonsense to rest. The more I think about it, the more I’m confident this is some ploy Alaine was putting into place to hurt my family.

Are they trying to drain money from us via legal fees? Dangle a cute kid and a trust fund in front of me to get my focus off the business?

Do the Mardraggons not understand our family wants for nothing? We’re beyond wealthy and we aren’t scheming backstabbers in maintaining that.

I won’t be fooled. I’ll go to that damn hearing on Monday, demand a paternity test and then when all of this is proven to be a sham, I’ll figure out a way to make them pay for dragging me into shit I don’t have time to deal with.

Moving to the love seat where Kat sits, I take the letter from her. My brothers and sister stare at me, their green eyes matching mine and handed down from our Irish mother, Fiona, and I stare right back.

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