Page 175 of Burning Daylight
His eyes narrow slightly. “And what will you do without all of this?”
“Live,” I say. “Love someone without lying to her. Be someone my sister can look up to.”
He leans back slowly, like the weight of his bones has finally caught up to him. “There’s no redemption in this world, Roman.”
“Maybe not for you,” I say. “But I’m done carrying your sins on my back.”
“Freddy thought you’d stay. That this would be enough.”
My brows shoot to my hairline, confusion racing through me like a river breaking a dam. “What do you mean, Frederick thought I’dstay?”
He shrugs. “This whole thing, me letting you come back, he’s the one who pushed for it. I thought it was too risky and was willing to just die and have everything in your name, hoping that one day, you’d be safe enough to come home and claim it.”
That doesn’t make any sense.
His words circle in my head and then drop to my feet, and I step closer to him, my voice low. “Are you telling me that Frederick Lawrence convinced you to have me come home, and then had me sign a piece of paper the moment I arrived saying if I left, it all would go to him?”
My father’s face shows a hint of recognition. Of wariness. Of betrayal.
The weight of it hits me in slow, suffocating waves. My chest pulls taut and my throat dries.
Every step I thought I was taking towardus, toward Juliette and me, is steeped in someone else’s agenda.
The realization is a punch to my gut.
“He said he’d help us leave,” I murmur, more to myself than him. “Juliette and me.”
I swallow the burn raging through me, my hands falling limp at my sides. My body’s still, but inside, something breaks.
“Who made sure Brooklynn’s trust went through?” I ask, my lungs seizing tight.
My father says nothing, but his eyes harden, suddenly alert and sharp as glass.
Fuck.
“She has it already,” I plead, half telling him and half asking. “She has a house, insurance, the money in her bank.”
My father swallows harshly.
“Tell me you looked over the papers. Tell me that there’s not a loophole, something that would be triggered if I disappeared.”
“I can’t tell you that, son. I’m not the man who writes the fine print.”
My heart shatters, blood pounding in my ears.
45
ROMAN
I’m in the ballroom of Old Main, the front-and-center building of Verona University.
My eyes flick over the room, people in overpriced outfits and million-dollar jewelry blinding against the crystal chandeliers overhead. There are round tables with black cloths interspersed throughout the area, a makeshift stage at the front, a clear podium at the center, and a row of chairs behind it.
The Calloway Enterprises logo is emblazoned onto almost every single thing in the space, and there are stock photos of smiling faces handing out food to those in need plastered like movie posters on the wall.
I don’t find Frederick in the crowd, but I do find Juliette, and my heart shoots into my throat, my stomach drops out, and every single inch of my being aches to go to her. To take her hand in mine and walk out of this place. To disappear into a world we can make ours, the way we whispered about up on that cliff.
My chest feels hollow knowing that’s not possible now.
