Page 110 of Obsessed Heir

She nods.

“She told you?” I ask, remembering I found them together in her room.

“Yes, she was just telling me.”

Of course, Mom would tell her our family’s secret. And she’ll learn more in time, now that her position will be solidified.

“I didn’t want to be like my father in that sense,” I find myself explaining. “Buying a woman to give me an heir. So I avoided telling her when I dealt with Esteban. I convinced myself it wasn’t the same thing…and you ended up suffering because of it.”

“It wasn’t all bad,” she says, as if trying to soothe me. “That’s all I’d ever known, so I assumed it was just how life was.”

How this girl could think going hungry was a normal part of life is beyond me. Setting up the local food bank in a bigger, permanent building took a chunk of the money I started with. Donating from every project took more, but it’s been a worthy cause.

“I’ve thought of you every day since then,” I confess, opening up to her.

She gives a sharp sound of disbelief. “You don’t have to say that,” she mumbles.

“Reach over for my jeans.”

“That’s okay,” she says, dismissing the request.

“My jeans, woman,” I insist.

She hesitates briefly, searching my face, then tentatively reaches down and pulls at the leg of my jeans, dragging them close. I take my wallet from the back pocket as she watches with curiosity.

Flipping open the stiff leather, I push aside the bills and check the bottom. Touching the flattened plastic cover, I fish it out, letting the wallet fall to the floor.

Abigail stares at the circle, her brows drawing into a steeple. “A bread tie?”

“The one on the bread you held the day I brought you home,” I confirm.

Tears trickle over as she fingers the wire I’ve fashioned into a circle so it will fit in my wallet.

“It’s my reminder to see things through to the end. That a careless oversight can lead to people suffering for it. To work my hardest to make sure my family is safe, and nobody can ever hurt them.”

“Barron.” Tears are streaming down her cheeks. Her body wracked with sobs. All I can do is hold her, and it feels painfully inadequate.

“You’ve been my driving force, the reason I set my goals and became the man I am.” I can’t wipe her tears away fast enough. “And if you want to go home, I’ll find someone to take over, and we’ll fly home.”

She shakes her head adamantly. “No. You’ve worked so hard for all of this. I could never have you leave everything behind.”

“So you’ll stay?” I ask. “Even with us being surrounded by water?”

“Yes, if you want me to.” She sniffs. “But what about Miss Opal?”

Of course she would worry more about Mom than about her deep-seated fear.

“I’m sure together we can convince her to stay.” I grin. “After all, there’s going to be a grandchild for her to spoil.”

“Well, I suppose the way you’ve been going, that’s bound to happen,” she notes as my seed trickles out of her.

“And there’s a wedding to plan,” I add, holding up the tie.

“Really,” she says with dry amusement.

“Really.”

Because there’s no way in hell I’m ever letting her go.

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