Page 44 of Gambit
“The timing of this. The year Eliza goes to Castle, you choose to come out with this information.”
“Only just found out. Also, I didn’t know my mother was a Gannon, so I didn’t have the opportunity to explore that side. She isolated us, I grew up completely alone.”
“And now you know, and you know Eliza is also a Gannon, that makes her powerful. Extremely so. What are you really after?”
“Family.”
“Not buying it.”
“Not my problem,” he grits out.
“Actually, it is your fucking problem,” Dad snaps. “You are here looking formyapproval.”
“I know.” Felix’s plaintive words hit me in the heart, but Dad seems unmoved.
Silence stretches between them like a tightrope. Felix stands firm, though, meeting Dad’s stare head-on.
“Eliza, please excuse us,” Dad says eventually.
“Erm, maybe that’s not?—”
“Go.”
“Okay, then.” I rise and shoot Felix an apologetic stare. I know which battles to pick, and Dad is in no mood to be fucked around with.
I back away, my pulse racing with hope and dread. As I close the door, their voices become muffled, two low baritones mingling in a conversation that could change everything. I lean against the cool wood, letting out a breath as I see a woman sneaking down the stairs, shoes off, in a black evening dress thatshows off her hourglass figure. Her red hair tumbles down her shoulders as she stops and bites her bottom lip when she sees me.
“Eliza, right?”
“Yep.”
“Chantelle. I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Funny. I’ve never heard a single thing about you.”
She smiles. “Figured. Damon likes to keep things close to his chest.”
“No shit.” I don’t mean to be so cool with her, but it’s nothing to do with her. I’m nervous about what’s going on behind me, and I’ve been distracted from eavesdropping by this red-haired siren sneaking out of my Dad’s bed.
“I’ll leave you all to it,” she murmurs. “I hope to see you again soon, Eliza.”
“Same,” I croak, because what else can I say? She seems nice enough, and Dad deserves to be happy; also, clearly, this woman knows what’s going on, so she and Dad are close enough to talk about stuff.
She smiles again and runs lightly out of the door, probably startling the guys outside because they’d be expecting me.
“Fuck,” I whisper to myself, running a hand through my hair and tuning back into the hushed conversation in the office. It’s useless, though. I can’t hear anything. It’s not surprising, though. The room is soundproofed to a certain degree.
Time to let them sort it out, man to man. I square my shoulders and walk away, every step heavy with the gravity of what I’ve started.
I pace the length of the living room, waiting impatiently for them to show me some sign of how this is going down.
The walls are adorned with family portraits, the Hughes legacy staring down at me. I stop in front of one—a photo of me as a kid, perched on Dad’s knee, his hand resting protectivelyon my shoulder. Back then, I didn’t question the world he built around us; it was just home, love mixed with danger.
Now, here I am, trying to bring another soul into this madness. Half-brother or not, if Dad doesn’t accept him, shit could hit the fan. But I’ve got skin in the game, too—it’s not just about blood; it’s about the future. Our future, and Felix, is part of that, whether Dad likes it or not.
“Come on, come on,” I mutter. But there’s nothing. It’s just me and the wait, the agonising bloody wait.
“Eliza.” Dad’s voice is rough, like gravel, but there’s something new in his eyes. Not the usual ice-cold command, but something warmer—a flicker, small but there, of acceptance. He looks at me, and I know that whatever went down in that room, we’ve crossed a line.
