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“Grace!” Larson admonished.

“Are you shocked at my language? How does Sage say it? Hold on to your wig. Be prepared to tell the unvarnished truth to both me and your children. Until then, there will be no fucking reason for us to talk. Do not drag it out. Otherwise… I will make this scandal very public. You owe me and the boys the truth. Especially if you have any hope of forgiveness.”

Of everything that transpired since his arrival, his Mom’s edict before she marched out the front door was the most surprising. Well, it was, until he heard a heart-wrenching sob from Larson as Emmanuel walked out.

“Grace, please. Don’t leave me.”

The ride from the Scott Estate to Emmanuel and Ivy’s home was surprisingly full of chatter. Grace carried the conversation. Once they were buckled into the back seat, she immediately launched into a conversation about her grandchildren’s recent accomplishments. The couple recognised her avoidance tactic and went along with it. No one was ready to address the horrible bombshell that had just been dropped.

Luckily, a distraction was waiting for them when they arrived home.

“I just knew if we waited, you two would make it home for dinner.”

Emmanuel couldn’t recall the last time he ate. Hell, he hadn’t kept track of the time. He wasn’t particularly hungry, but his daughter looked so pleased that they would all eat together. Sage was especially ecstatic about her grandma’s impromptu visit.

Despite the way she was grumbling, she was also excited that both her brothers were home for dinner. “The moochers are both here for dinner, but they are off in their rooms,” she’d informed them.

Their family would be together to share a meal. Hungry or not, Emmanuel embraced the idea. He needed his family around him to ground him. She was talking a mile a minute and all three adults welcomed the distraction.

“Guess what Cook made for dinner?” She didn’t wait for them to respond. “Hold on to your wig. She made smothered pork chops with onions, mushrooms, and bacon. I helped. Well, taste tested. It is cool, because it’s almost like Mørbradbøffer i flødesovs, which is like your favourite Grandma. Except Cook made it with mashed potatoes because I asked and not the roasted potatoes you prefer.”

“You know… I have a taste for mashed potatoes today. So it worked out perfectly,” His Mom praised, pulling his little girl to her side.

Sage’s face lit up immediately.

“Hey Sage, why don’t you help Grandma get settled into her room and then tell your brothers we will eat in forty minutes,” Ivy instructed.

“Thanks Doc. I have some calls I need to make before dinner.”

Ivy shared her plans as well. “I’ll go make sure the staff knows Mom is here. Oh, and make sure there are enough place settings for dinner.”

He kissed her temple then asked, “then you will come join me?”

Ivy nodded.

“I’ll be in the office.” The first thing Emmanuel did once he was seated behind his desk was call their house manager. The call was brief. His instructions were explicit.

“Miller, please ensure my father is not permitted entrance to the property tonight.”

“Is that until further notice, Sir?”

Hm, that was a damn good question. “Yes.”

Once he had completed the call, he took a moment with his thoughts while he waited for Ivy. His father, Larson Campbell Scott II, was a real piece of work.

The truth. For the brief period when Emmanuel believed Larson was not his father, he had feelings of relief. He hadn’t even told Ivy about it.

Being Larson’s son had never given him a sense of pride. Emmanuel had been grateful to be out from under the weight of Larson’s legacy. Except now he wasn’t. They shared the same bloodline. Emmanuel felt it coursing through his veins. If he wouldn’t hurt so many people, he would burn the company to the ground. Then dance gleefully around the flames, while his father lost his fucking mind.

The way Larson was causing Emmanuel to question if he could keep hold of the reigns of his own sanity. Wasn’t the truth supposed to set you free? Then why did he feel shackled and bound? Probably because he was hurting.

His mom. God, his poor Mom. Finding out that most of her life with her husband was a lie. That he had brought home his bastard son for her to raise.

STOP IT.His mind screamed.

There would be no way she could feel that way about him. It wasn’t the way she felt now, but who knew what she would feel when she had a moment to think.

“Hey you,” Ivy called. He hadn’t heard her come in, but she stood beside him.

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