Page 266 of Mangled Memory
“Fishing for compliments, baby?”
“Maybe.”
“You never need to fish. It’s always you. You’re the best part of every day.”
I melt into him.
He kisses my temple and whispers there, “Love you, Ayla.”
“Love you, too, Christian.”
“Twenty-four hours.” He pulls back and takes a deep slug of his wine. “I’d relive them just to hear you say that to me. That’s twice.” He releases a huge exhale. “I don’t want to change the topic. Really, I don’t, but we need to talk.”
Worst words in the history of humanity.
I stiffen and pull away.
“Nope. You can’t retreat. It’s not bad. Well, it’s… hell, it’s bad, but it’s not what you think, and you need to know.”
“Know what?”
“Your father… God, I hate that man?—”
That’s not how I thought he’d start a conversation. “He’s mentioned a thing or two”—or twenty—“about your rivalry.”
“I’m not surprised.” He pauses to refill his stem and sip his wine. “Your father’s attorney and mine are partners. It would be unethical of them to discuss our businesses, so they don’t. Typically, anyway. I’d be lying to say they don’t ever because it happens, but not often, and not in a way I take advantage of.”
I reclaim my stool, pulling my feet up to the seat and wrapping my knees in a hug.
“After your accident, your dad began asking questions. He was asking about court-appointed emergency guardianship.”
I stiffen.Say what?
“Sherman was in the office and overheard the call and was concerned. He reached out to me.”
My mouth pops open. Nausea roils. Anger bubbles but I sit dumbfounded as he continues.
“Your father could have applied for conservatorship. Legally, he could’ve done what was needed, assumed your finances and taken control of your interests, before you or I ever knew. I’d be lying to say I didn’t think he would do such a thing. Maybe to get to me, maybe not. But that’s not the point, because either way, you would be controlled and unable to fight his wishes. You’ve told me so many times how hard you fought to avoid being under his thumb. I couldn’t allow it to go down like that.”
I’m speechless, but my mind whirls. Dad’s always been controlling. “He’s always tried to ram his will down my throat.” I stare off into memory after memory of his catch-twenty-twos that always resulted in him winning.
Christian breaks through my stroll down nightmare lane. “You woke up and didn’t remember anything. You didn’t know about your business, your home… me.”
I swallow, hating the pain on his face.
“He was poised to do it, had the opportunity, and would’ve dictated your life. I beat him to the punch and filed for guardianship myself.”
“I don’t… understand.” There’s too much data, too many emotions to get what’s right in front of me.
He scrubs a hand down his very pronounced stubble. “You’re missing the point your brothers so quickly understood. They know, by the way. Why do you think they allowed me to stay with you two nights ago?”
I hadn’t considered that. In my emotional haze, I failed to even think how Christian got into my room and bed or how or why Cian would’ve allowed such a thing. Cian and Liam would throw down over anything that would remotely be to my detriment.
“If conservatorship was going to happen, I wanted it to be me, who was in this with you, not Seamus. I don’t want to control you. I don’t want your obedience, and I don’t need your money.”
Oh. Oh, I get it.
“I want you well and I’m willing to go to court with you to get your autonomy back, when the time is right. Do you really think your father would do that?”
