Page 120 of Lush

“Would you blackmail your own son?”

I had to ask. I’d watched Harold all night. He didn’t look like the happy parent with a new partnership. He looked agitated. Constantly checking his phone. A drink always in his hand.

He spun around. “What?”

“Reese has spent his entire life trying to live up to a standard you made impossibly high for him. I know you don’t like him.”

“He’s lazy. Undisciplined. Weak,” Harold snapped. “He had every opportunity handed to him, and he squandered them all. Do you know what that’s like? To give someone everything, and they spit in your face?”

“Everything?” I laughed bitterly, shaking my head. “You gave himnothing. But that’s not the problem, is it?”

Harold’s nostrils flared, the muscles in his jaw tightening. He was visibly seething now. “It’s about what I’ve invested. In him. My company,your town.”

“Invested?” I echoed. “What are you trying to protect, Harold? Paranoid too?”

He stiffened, the walls going up again. “I’m done talking about this.”

My hand shot out, grabbing his arm. Somebody better give me an answer. “What the hell are you hiding?”

Harold spun, his grip on my wrist tightening with surprising ferocity; I gasped. He sent me hard against the wall.

His face was inches from mine, his eyes wild with rage. “You don’t know who you’re messing with, Laurene.”

“Let go of me,” I said, though a small part of me was afraid. But I refused to give in. I would not let him scare me.

“Your mother she thinks she’s controlling everything. But she’s blind to what’s really happening.”

I stared at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Dante,” he said. “You don’t think I see them both plotting against me? I know your mother had a plan with this arranged sham.”

I blinked, feeling a shiver crawl down my spine. “What is Dante planning?”

“Worry about him instead of me.”

He released me, and I immediately pressed my wrist against my chest.

A sudden knock on the door shattered the silence, sharp and unexpected, and Reese stormed in. Immediately his eyes were on me and my arm, and I immediately forced it down by my side.

“What the hell is going on in here?” Reese demanded, his gaze darting between me and Harold. “Laurene? Is everything okay?”

I opened my mouth, ready to respond, but before I could get a word out, Harold said calmly, his voice cold, “Nothing to worry about. Just a discussion about family matters.”

“Really?” Reese’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing on his father.

“I was just leaving,” he muttered, brushing past Reese without even sparing him a second glance.

The door clicked shut behind him, and Reese turned to me, concern flooding his features. “Laurene. What did he say to you?”

I didn’t trust myself to speak about it yet without breaking. “Can we go?”

“Let’s get the hell out of here.”

What do I say to him?

We pulled up to his house, and Reese killed the engine and got out first, circling to open my door. “Come on.”

I pulled up my dress; the rough stone steps were scratching at the delicate fabric. The image of the send-off at the resort kept haunting me—confetti in my hair, car packed with wedding gifts. But now, it all felt so far away and suffocating.

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