Page 173 of Reverse

“Four months,” I admit with a shaky voice.

“How?”

“The archives,” I confess, “I was looking up old articles for the thirtieth edition and found emails between you and Stella, and so I—”

He takes a step toward me, cocking his head. “Youwhat?”

“I know it was wrong, but I got . . . immersed in your love story with her, and I . . .” How can I possibly explain this to himnow? No part of his current disposition indicates he’s capable of an ounce of understanding, but I press on as my worst nightmare unfolds. “I didn’t want to ask you about it because I know when it ended . . . y-you got hurt.” I catch his flinch as though every word of my confession is a physical blow. “You never told me about your relationship with her . . . I-I contacted Easton—”

“And started a goddamnflingwith the one human being on earth I would forbid you to see?”

“Far from a fucking fling,” Easton defends in a clipped tone, “never was. That was the problem.”

Dad’s features distort in indignation as he turns to address Easton. “You’re walking a very fucking thin line, considering,” my father warns, his tone deadly.

“I understand you’re pissed, but please don’t come at me that way,” Easton grits out. “I’m trying here.”

“Daddy, I’m just as much to blame,more so eventhan him.”

Tension rolls throughout the room, and I can physically feel Easton begin to battle his temper as he speaks up. “At least give us a chance to explain ourselves. I don’t expect your understanding.”

“You better not expect my goddamned acceptance either!” Dad roars, upturning a nearby tray which crash lands on the floor. Broken dishes shatter while water runs in rivulets away from my newly-scattered, glass-embedded pink roses.

Never in my life have I seen my father lash out physically in anger, not likethis. Trepidation fills me as he pins me with his glare. “I won’t fucking accept this, Natalie!” His eyes dart to Easton and back to me. “Is that why you married him?”

“No,” I speak up, finding strength in the truth. “Just the opposite. The night I married him was the first and only time since he and I met that I allowed myself to be with him without a single thought of you. I married him because he understands me. Because being with him makes me happy. Because I love him with every fiber of my being. Every minute we were together before this weekend, it was thoughts of you, of how you would feel, that kept—”

“But they didn’t stop you,” Dad rages. “Do you have any idea what you’re asking?”

“Daddy, I tried. I tried so hard, but Easton and I, we,” I shake my head as hot tears fill my eyes and my vision blurs. “I know you know what this feels like—”

“Don’t you dare!” Dad roars, and I jump back.

“Please stop screaming at my wife,” Easton bristles, nostrils flaring, voice dangerously low, “you’re scaring her.”

“Yourwife,” Dad snarls, before immediately stalking toward him, posture threatening. “Yourwife!”

“Daddy!” I cry out in fear as Easton lifts his chin, eyes darkening, posture tensing. In that moment, I don’t even recognize my father until he stops a few feet away, hands fisted just as a lethal warning slices through the commotion.

“Take another threatening step toward my son, Butler, and I’ll fucking end you.” The entirety of the room fills with a dangerous air as the three of us collectively turn toward the front door of the villa, and all eyes land on Reid Crowne.

FIFTY

Easton

Storming into the villa, Dad steps around me to go head-to-head with Nate, and I palm his chest, his outrage tangible.

“Dad, don’t,” I press in and can physically feel the anger in Dad’s shaking frame as he barks around me while I try to step between them. “What the fuck, Nate? Were you seriously going to strike my son?!”

Nate scoffs, “I’m not the man to take the underhanded route, Reid. That’s moreyourfucking specialty, isn’t it?”

“Didn’t look that way to me,” Dad grits out, frame still coiling beneath my hand. As they weigh each other, I glimpse a view of the history between them before Nate claps back.

“Well, we both know things aren’t always what they seem, don’t we, Reid? I prefer to use my intelligence over my fist to make a point, which may be a foreign concept for you.”

“Sure seems like your fucking IQ is lacking today,” Dad grits out, rare anger in his voice.

“Because you’re an authority on controlling your temper, right?” Nate shakes his head with a scoff. “Don’t insult me by acting like you’re okay with this.”

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