Page 152 of Lush

My fist crashed into his jaw one last time, harder than before, and he went down.Hard.

For Conrad.

For everything Harold took.

For everything he ruined.

I stood over him, my breathing slow and controlled, watching as he groaned, shifting onto his side. He wouldn’t get up quickly—not this time.

“I’m nothing like you.”

“You’re weak,” he snarled, lying on his side he looked up at me. “Look at you! Always emotional! Always reckless!”

“You’ve been lying to us for years. You ruined everything. You dragged Mom into this scandal, you used Conrad, and you didn’t even go see Jennie or your granddaughter in the hospital. That’s a selfish man, not a man who cares about his family.”

“I did what I had to do.” His voice was low, like he was trying to reason with me.

“Bullshit!” I shouted. “You did what youwantedto do.”

“You don’t know the whole story, Reese.”

“I know enough,” I shot back. “I know enough to see you for who you really are.”

“Then hit me again, big guy. Since that’s all you can do?”

“Yeah, I could hit you again. I could probably fucking kill you, but I won’t. You’re not worth it. No one is gonna push me there again,” I said, my voice steady, almost calm. “Because what would that do, really? You’d still be the same sad, broken man. I know the truth now, Harold. I know everything.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out Conrad’s journal, the worn leather cover rough against my fingers.

“This,” I said, holding it up for him to see. “Conrad kept a record of everything. Your lies, your manipulations, how you tried to control us and shape our lives the way you wanted. He wrote it all down.”

Harold’s eyes widened slightly, the confidence in his posture wavering. “You think a few scribbles in a notebook mean anything?”

“You pushed him to the point where he was stealing money from our company, framing me, and cutting you off. He was gonna run away, did you know that?”

Harold looked shocked.

“Yeah, your golden son wasn’t so perfect. He fucking hated you. He thought just like me what a fucking cancer you are.”

His head dropped to the ground, his chest heaving, and I saw the blood drips fall slowly.Plop. Plop. Plop.

“Get up,” I growled, barely able to hide the disgust in my voice.

With a groan he pushed himself up to his knees, making a show of shaking and falling back down, but I didn’t care, I watched him till he stood at his full height looking at me.

“Why were you gambling, Harold?” My voice was steady. “Blair was involved in this too? How’d she fit in?”

His eyes flickered to mine—guilt, regret, fear all tangled up in the look he shot me.

“Blair took my bets,” he muttered. “She—she got me in contact with her father. Thought I could make more, but I lost more than I won. Couldn’t stop. I thought I could get out of it, but…but I didn’t. Toby got in on it. Said he knew some people in Dubai that could double my odds.”

I took a step closer, closing the distance, and I saw his eyes widen.

“You’re gonna pay back every fucking cent, Harold. All thirty-two million you stole. And I don’t care if you have to pawn every fucking thing you owe or hit the blade, but you will pay Ashbourne Capital back.”

His face fell.

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