180 The Final Confession
Lucian
“You can’t do that!” Martha finally shrieked, her voice ricocheting off the dining room walls.
“I can. And I am,” I replied coldly. “As of this moment, I’m cutting all financial support. You and my father are no longer my responsibility.”
Her face drained of color.
“I won’t pay the staff in the right wing anymore,” I continued, voice firm. “So hold on to the ones you can afford.”
She turned to my father, eyes wide, desperate for him to say something-do something.
But I didn’t care if he spoke. I wouldn’t listen. Not anymore.
“And soon,” I added, “I’ll have the full report of exactly how much your wife stole from me.”
Martha stiffened. My father’s hands clenched on the edge of the table.
“When I do,” I said, “you’ll have two options: pay back every cent… or I seize the mansion.”
My father’s eyes burned red, rage and disbelief tangled behind his stare.
“Why?” was all he managed to say, like the answer wasn’t decades in the making.
“You want to know why?” I asked, my voice quieter now-but more dangerous.
Mara placed a calming hand on my thigh. I drew in a breath, trying to hold the storm back, just enough to speak.
“You cheated on my mother,” I said, each word like a blade. “You spent her money on brothels in Goldenpeak. And the very year she died, you replaced her like she was nothing.”
My father flinched.
“You let this woman live off her wealth. You allowed her to bleed what wasn’t hers. Money meant for me. For my future.”
I looked at Martha then, eyes cold.
“She would’ve run the company into the ground if I hadn’t taken over.”
I turned back to him, no pity left in me.
“And while all of that was happening-while you were playing house with Martha’s parents-you left my great-aunt and cousin in poverty. Poverty, while servants waited on this woman’s family like royalty.”
I leaned forward, every word like fire through my teeth.
“I might’ve walked away. I might’ve let it go. But I saw my grand-aunt. I saw Lydia. I saw the cost of your betrayal.”
They said nothing. There was nothing they could say.
“You left a child to care for her sick mother alone. And for what? So Martha’s folks could live in comfort off the fortune you were supposed to protect?”
The room felt like it might crack open.
“If I had a shred of evidence, I’d swear you and Martha conspired to kill my mother for her money.”
The air thickened.
And then my father stood-fists clenched-and punched me square in the face.
180 The Final Confession
The blow came fast. My head snapped back slightly, but I didn’t fall. I didn’t stagger.
Points >
“I loved Natasha!” he shouted, voice cracking, tears spilling freely down his face. “I loved her more than life itself! I wished I had died in her place!”
The room froze. No one moved. No one breathed.
“Do you think carrying on without her was easy for me?” he barked, his voice rising, almost frantic. “Most nights, I lie awake, haunted by the same damn questions-what could I have done differently? If I had just acted sooner… If I had just s een it… she’d still be alive. And my life-my life wouldn’t feel like this hollow ruin!”
He was unraveling, but it wasn’t weakness. It was years of buried pain finally tearing loose.
“Your grand-aunt was crippled and mute-she couldn’t care for you. I married Martha so you would be taken care of. That’s the truth. If I hadn’t had a child, I would’ve stayed single until the end of my days. Damn society and its opinions.”
He took a breath, trembling, and pointed at me.
“Regardless of what you believe, I always favored you, Lucian. Always. I was never going to hand Driftwake or the company to Darian. Never.”
He turned, as if trying to gather himself, but the flood wouldn’t stop.
“I had no idea Martha was stealing, or paying anyone off behind my back. I didn’t know,” he said, then paused. His eyes turned sharp. Cold. “But Katya-she was the reason Natasha broke. The reason she sank into depression. The reason we had to go to that cursed place. She is the reason I lost the only woman I ever loved.”
He looked me dead in the eye.
“So yes. I made sure she suffered for it. And I would do it again.”
The room remained in stunned silence. He straightened his back, adjusting his tie, trying to piece together what was left
of his composure.
“You can judge me, scream, take everything. Sell the duplex-I don’t care. I didn’t buy it. Martha said she paid for it with her allowance, that it was mortgaged. Maybe that was a lie too.”
He gestured toward the air, like he was brushing the whole mess away.
“The staff in that house? Paid by Martha. I had nothing to do with them. If you want to strip everything, then do it. Take it all. Because truthfully, Lucian-” his voice faltered for just a second, “I lost everything the day Natasha died.”
He looked at me then. Not with anger, but something deeper. Worn. Hollow.
“You’re the only part of her I have left. You were the only reason I stayed standing. But now? You’re grown. You have your own mate. Your own child on the way. My part in this is done.”
He turned to leave, but not before delivering one final blow.
“After the handover, I’m gone. I don’t give a damn about Chase, or Alaric Moongrove, or any of that cursed history. I’m not a thief. I never stole from anyone. And if you think otherwise-fine.”
He paused in the doorway, glancing back.
“But while you’re at it… you might want to figure out what to do about Darian’s mother. Because I’m done.”
And with that, he walked out of the breakfast lounge.
Not defeated.
But completely and utterly finished.
