Page 95 of Shattered Dreams

I walk toward the kitchen to grab my checkbook. “Maybe you did, but that’s life, right? Raise your daughter and do well in school. Keep in touch, if you want to be friends, but we’ll never be more than that. Not ever again.”

“I understand, and I’d like that very much.”

I give her a hug goodbye, and she leaves, another check folded in her pocket.

At some point, we all bite off more than we can chew, don’t we?

I take a break to eat lunch and feed Baby part of my sandwich. CNN hasn’t been that forthcoming—they can’t share information they don’t have—but just as I’m opening a bottle of beer to wash down the ham and cheese, a bright redBreakingbanner lights up the bottom of the TV screen and the news studio blinks to a dais set up inside the lobby of Maddox Industries.

A newscaster announces, her voice hushed and serious, that Zarah Maddox will be speaking in a few moments and she speculates what the heiress has to say. To eat up time, she summarizes what the Maddoxes have gone through in the past seven years, their affiliation with the Blacks, and she explains,again, like it hasn’t been all over the news these past two weeks, their part in exposing Senator Rourke Cook, Vice President Andrews, and the conspiracy against the president of the United States.

They throw me into the mix, theorizing my part in it as I’ve been dating Zarah for the past few months, and they regurgitate my less-than-exciting history. There isn’t one person on this earth now who doesn’t know Rourke’s my stepfather.

Sierra messages me, enjoying a strung-out fifteen minutes of fame since the news channels still like to flash the picture the paparazzi took of us at the bar, but she’s asking if I’m okay, too. She’s come to the same conclusion Viv did, that I’m not seeing Zarah anymore.

It’s difficult not to be able to say otherwise.

Zarah steps behind the podium, strong and sure of herself. Her hair looks the same, sleek and parted down the middle, the ends grazing her shoulders, and her makeup’s meticulous, black mascara and eyeliner, her lips colored the mauve I like to kiss off. She smiles brightly, her eyes clear. Wearing a crisp black blazer and a pair of jeans that are plastered to her legs, she commands the room, and every single soul quiets to listen to her.

Now that Willow Black has fallen, my mother’s beginning to suffer the consequences of her husband’s action, Vance Huxley’s disgraced wife has been run out of the city, and Zarah’s mother is dead, next to Stella Maddox, I’m looking at the most powerful woman in King’s Crossing.

What is she going to do with a man like me?

Zarah starts speaking and Baby’s ears perk up.

I don’t know what she’s going to say, but with a huge ball of fear sitting like lead in my stomach, I sit on the coffee table and listen to her decide my fate.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Zarah

Ithought I’d be nervous, but there is too much of my mother in me to waste precious seconds being scared to talk to people. I’m going to stake my claim, tell everyone what my plans are. I hope Gage is watching. After my speech, I need to find him. If he doesn’t like what I have to say, then I’ll know he can’t accept what I want to do with my life.

This is my way of giving him a warning. He can think of a way out and let me down easy. I remember every second of our relationship. I also remember his fears were the same as mine. Can we have what we had now that everything is over? I can’t pretend I’m the same person I was under the influence of those drugs, but I’m not that different, either.

Everyone quiets as I adjust the microphone. I’ve written an outline of what I want to say. These are my words. No one helped me.

“Thank you all for coming. I’m not here to rehash what has happened to me and my family during the past seven and a half years. Everyone knows what the Blacks did to us, and as SenatorCook’s case is ongoing, I’m not at liberty to divulge many, if any, details, but I can talk to you about what my plans are going forward. I will not let Ashton Black control my life any longer. What he did to me has wasted too much time as it is, and I’m eager to put the past behind me and contribute to the legacy my parents left for my brother and me.

“I haven’t gone to school. I took two gap years before Ashton Black kidnapped Stella and caused my mental breakdown. Since then, all I’ve tried to do is live one day at a time, hoping someday I could have a normal life. Because of the antidote created alongside the Alzheimer’s drug, my memories have been returned to me and that someday is finally within my grasp. No one can tell you better than I that life is precious, time is precious, and you must make the most of it.

“Some of you may have heard that my brother purchased Quiet Meadows intending to tear the building down. That building was a source of pain for many people, and Maddox Industries is creating a foundation to assist those who need mental health resources in honor of the women Senator Cook had murdered to protect his secret: JodiAnne Connelly, Savannah Mesa, Marci Greyson, and Stacy Birmingham. The medical examiner who performed the autopsies is under investigation, and if he has committed any crimes, I will ensure he is prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. As far as the facility, I’ve decided to keep it intact, and I personally will see that it be reopened and provides the care for which it was intended.”

A murmur floats through the crowd of reporters and I look down at my index card, hiding a small smile. Before all this happened, I was only a young girl without a plan, and after my breakdown, I was a girl without a working brain. I would imagine it’s quite a shock to hear me speak.

“But that isn’t my chosen path. The legacy my mother and father left behind is important to me, and I’ve done nothing to help my brother see to its survival. Therefore, I plan to earn a degree and step into my rightful place in the company by his side. My mother helped my father in all ways, and I too, will assist my brother in any way that he needs.”

I pause. “I have a moment for questions, and then I have an appointment I can’t miss.”

“Is it a doctor’s appointment, Miss Maddox?” a reporter calls out.

Scowling good-naturedly, I say, “No. I’ve had enough of those.”

He grins.

“What about Stella? Where does she fit into all this now that she’s married to your brother?” an older reporter shouts.

“Besides standing by his side as his supportive wife and being a valuable member of my family?” I ask, tilting my head and smiling, though I am not amused. Mom taught me to stay on the media’s good side, and as Maddox Industry’s eventual PR director, I am now laying that foundation.

---