“When my grandfather passed, Granny announced my engagement to my stepcousin, Timothy. My dad took her side.”
Declan swears, clenching his fist.
“Or rather he begged me to do it, because itwould cease the internal fighting and ensure that I could protect the family legacy. So I agreed. He was a broken man after he lost my brother. And a part of me thought this was something my brother would have never been able to do. To marry our cousin.”
I take another sip and give Declan the glass, chancing a glance at him. He fell for Lily Thorne, not Liliana Spinelli, the heir to a rotten dynasty. Is he going to see me as one of them?
“Why is his name Spinelli?”
“He was born out of wedlock, and we never knew who his father was. In my circle, it gave him a bastard label. I guess it might have contributed to his personality.”
He takes my hand and brushes it with his lips. “Go on.”
“Timothy has always been a bully. A useless, lazy asshole, who spent a fortune but never contributed. His abuse was mostly verbal, and I was used to it. It didn’t impact me, so I believed I could handle him.
“It was when he hit me the first time that I realized it would only escalate from there. I was going to break the engagement, so he locked me in the room and set it on fire.”
Declan’s leg bounces, his fists now in a white-knuckle grip. I place my hand on the vibrating leg, and he stops tapping it.
“I got out, but I knew he wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted: the entire inheritance and me out of the way. I went to my dad, and he said I should endure it while he tries to collect evidence about Tim’s wrongdoing.”
Declan’s leg starts bouncing again.
“I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it. So I decided to disappear. I was hoping Tim would fuck up enough to end up in jail or something. Or my father would find enough evidence to act on it. I believed that good would prevail. At least, for now, the company is still led by my father.”
Declan takes a generous sip and goes to refill the glass. I’m not sure if it’s because he needs another drink or to walk off the pent-up energy.
He comes back, carrying the bottle. He pours us another glass and hands it to me.
“So, now you know what kind of crazy I come from.” I try to sound jovial, but it comes out flat.
I yelp as Declan scoops me up and sets me in his lap. “I’m sorry for everything they did to you, Lily.”
“My grandfather was a great man. Spinelli Food was a work of love for him. The brand represented family, people coming together over a meal. I love that about the company, but for the longest time now, it’s been mostly just marketing spiel. The Spinellis as a family play their part as upstanding citizens and pillarsof the community while stabbing each other in the back. Only Dad makes sure the Spinelli brand is protected.”
“Your father should have protected you. Not the fucking brand.” Declan takes a sip.
“I know you can’t possibly understand this, but one of the reasons I didn’t tell you is because I wanted to protect the brand. I knew you would force a confrontation with Tim. He and his mother would use any excuse to further propel the inside wars within the company. It would only blow up Dad’s careful balancing act of keeping the company in the right hands.”
He contemplates my words for a moment. “I think I understand. I disagree, but I understand.” He sighs. “What’s going to happen now?”
“We can hope Tim will pack up and go home—which is wishful thinking. I’m pretty sure he’ll stay to feed the media frenzy.”
“I’ll hire security.”
“I never wanted to bring this to your door.”
“You apologize one more time and I will have you over my knee.”
Jesus. There is something wrong with me, because despite the dreadful day and the gloomy conversation, his words arouse me. “Yes, sir.”
Holding me tight, he leans forward and puts thewhiskey down. He barely reclines back before he seizes my lips again.
We kiss, this time with more urgency, before he cuts the kiss short.
“Besides media, what else can we expect?” His need to plan and control wins over the passion.
“I will have to call my father and explain my lengthy absence.”