Page 104 of Corrupted Pleasure
“Russians?” Wynter asked. “That doesn’t make any sense. I thought your da-” Wynter paused, as if unsure whether she could still call her uncle Juliette’s dad. “I thought the Irish never dealt with the Russians.”
“It is one hard rule I’ve heard my father repeat,” Ivy added. “No business dealings with the Russians.”
I swallowed hard. “Maybe it is because of what happened to the Cullens?”
“I don’t know,” Juliette whispered. “All I know is that Ava and Aiden Cullen had two children, presumed dead. Dad… Liam was Aiden Cullen’s best friend. Those coincidences are too big to be swept under the rug. Even if Killian and I didn’t look like Ava and Aiden Cullen.”
“So he’s hiding you?” Wynter breathed. “You and Killian.”
The shock coloring Wynter’s face matched my own. Ivy’s eyes kept darting all around, trying to make sense out of all of it too.
Juliette nodded.
“It makes perfect sense now that I never had a mother,” Juliette continued on a whimper. “He never married, despite having two kids. You know if we were his, he’d have dragged our mother to the altar.”
“How did you suddenly get your hands on those birth certificates?” Ivy asked the question I’ve been pondering. “You never told us.”
“When I went to see Dad in the penthouse after our holiday trip to Texas,” she explained. “Remember that attack on the club on the west side of New York? He was held up because of it, so I waited for him. I went in search of a blanket.” I remembered a similar blanket hunt three months ago in her family home. “He keeps that penthouse for his private use, so I wasn’t familiar with where he kept stuff. I found myself in his office and the birth certificates sat on his desk. They caught my eye because I saw my first name.”
I wondered what I would do if I happened to find out the name of my father. I knew who my mother was but the knowledge was limited. I knew her name, what grandpa had told me of her childhood, but it stopped there. Grandpa didn’t like to talk about it.
“Did you ask Killian?” Wynter whispered, as if she worried the tone of her voice would upset her.
Juliette shook her head in response. “I just couldn’t,” she rasped.
Silence filled the room upon this discovery. The only thing disturbing it were Juliette’s sniffles. It was a startling finding.
“How long have you known those birth certificates weren’t fakes?” Wynter asked her.
“I’ve been looking up information and researching all along,” she admitted. “So I’ve known for a while now.”
“And you kept quiet about it?” Wynter said quietly.
“I-I didn’t want you to think I’m not your family anymore,” Juliette admitted, the vulnerability in her voice matching the one lingering in her eyes. “The way Irish view family only as blood kin had me scared,” she added with a hoarse whisper.
“Juliette, we’re family,” I reprimanded her softly. “Maybe not blood related, but you’ve done more for me than my own parents.”
“That’s right,” Wynter agreed. “Nothing and nobody could take this away.”
“Nobody. Not a man, not parents, not brothers. We’re a ride or die kind of girl squad,” Ivy stated. “For Christ’s sake, we convinced Davina to whistle Rue’s song. I mean, who else would ever do that?”
“Or burn down a house,” I added dryly, while a smile played around my lips.
“I don’t know a single member of our entire family, blood or not, that’ll ever stand by me as you three have,” Wynter continued softly. “We are here for each other. This isn’t just friendship. We’re family, we’re friends, we’re everything. And we’re stuck with each other forever. Regardless of what happens. I don’t care what continent we live on, we’ll always be there for each other.” Wynter’s eyes traveled over all of us as if she wanted to show us all that she meant it. All of us agreed, nodding our heads and smiles on our faces. We had so much connecting us to each other. “Our kids will be family and our husband’s better like each other, or they’ll get the boot,” she added teasingly.
And suddenly everything was better. So much better.
* * *
“Grandpa!” I ran towards the private clinic ambulance, uncaring that I probably behaved like a little kid who hadn’t seen her parents in years.
The girls were right behind me. “Grandpa Hayes,” they exclaimed in unison.
Two paramedics had just sat Grandpa in the wheelchair and I fell down to my knees and hugged him around his waist. His wrinkled hand came to my head, his palm gentle and frail as he patted my head. Just as he did when I was a little girl.
“There’s my little girl,” he said, his voice gruff. “How did you make this happen?”
I grinned up at him. There was so much I wanted to tell him but we had time. We’d go slow. The main thing was that he was close now.
