Page 143 of Mark & Don't Tell

Taking a breath, I find Terrance’s gaze to gauge his reaction, but my mentor is simply grinning. Everyone is. No one seems mad. In fact, a few people cheer Lincoln on.

“I apologize for kissing her in front of you all and if it made you uncomfortable. The truth is, I love her—we all do—and sometimes we forget ourselves because she’s amazing. Wonderful. Sexy.”

Someone whistles suggestively.

“Lincoln,” I warn.

He smirks at me. “Like I said, we love Daria, and she’s our mate.” As his blue irises shimmer with adoration, my answering grin is goofy as fuck, but I don’t even care.

“Unbelievable,” a sharp, distinct voice cuts through the murmurs and chatter.

Oh, no.

Color and happiness drain from Linc’s face, and his head snaps in the direction of the voice—to look straight at his son, who is watching us with a curled upper lip and revulsion on clear display.

“This is a joke, right? Tell me you’re not seriously dating my ex-girlfriend.” Ryan glares at me and storms over to us. “You fucked my dads to get back at me?”

A few gasps ripple around the office. Only a few seconds ago, I was elated that everyone knew. Now I’m devastated. Our relationship is nothing like Ryan is implying.

“No.” I shake my head. “That’s not what happened.”

He scoffs. “I’m not stupid, Daria. I knew you were desperate for my attention, but I didn’t realize the lengths you’d go to get it.”

“Ryan,” Linc says. “This isn’t her fault.”

“No?” he asks, face reddening. “So, you fucked my ex-girlfriend to make me mad?”

“That’s not what happened,” I say again, squeezing Linc’s hand. “I didn’t even know you were their son until you showed up the other day, and they didn’t know you were my ex until I told them.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.” If looks could kill, Linc and I would be dead. “This is some fucked-up type of power play, isn’t it?”

“Son—”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Ryan growls. “You have no right to call me that.”

“Please,” Lincoln tries again. “Let’s talk about this in my office.”

“And spare your employees the juicy details of your affair?” Ryan laughs. “No, Dad. You were so ready to tell them about your relationship. Don’t they deserve to know the truth? Don’t they deserve to know that you both stabbed me in the back?” He turns to shout over his shoulder. “Hey, everyone! My ex-girlfriend is fucking my dads to try and hurt me.”

“That’s not how it happened,” I say louder. “You weren’t even a consideration!”

He gives me a haughty once-over. “Sure thing, sweetheart. Tell me, Dad, does she still cry after sex?”

“Ryan,” Linc roars. “That’s enough.”

But the words are already in the open, echoing through the room. I brace myself for how my co-workers will respond. How pity and disgust will fill their faces. Except, as I glance around, it’s not me they’re looking at. Every single look is aimed at Ryan.

He’s oblivious, though, and goes for the jugular, even after he’s flayed the flesh from my bones. “You know what? I don’t even know why I’m mad when she couldn’t even get through a blow job without sobbing.”

Linc lets go of my hand, and in the next millisecond, his fist connects with Ryan’s face. My mouth dropping open, I have to stifle a startled noise with my hand as I take a step away from the fight, but it’s over with the one punch. Ryan staggers back and clutches his nose, crying out in agony as blood gushes from his nostrils.

“What the fuck, Dad?”

“That’s my mate you’re talking about, and the fact that you think her crying after you were intimate is a dig at her is frankly disgusting. I know I raised you better.” Linc grabs the collar of Ryan’s shirt and drags him toward the elevators, angrily growling things in his son’s ear as he goes.

Terrance and a few others rush over to me, forming a protective semi-circle around me. My mentor pulls me into a hug.

“That guy is an asshole.” Terrance squeezes me tight. “Don’t let what he said get to you. Lincoln and the pack love you for you.”

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