184 The Picture Over The Bed
Lucian
I followed his scent, half-expecting it to lead me to his office. But it didn’t. It led me somewhere I had never been.
His bedroom.
Martha never allowed me near it when I was younger, and over the years, I simply stopped trying. Now, standing before
the door, slightly ajar, I realized this was my first time seeing it from the inside.
The space was larger than mine, with a sitting area that mirrored the design of my own wing. But it was the bedroom that
stopped me.
He was there, standing by the open closet, pulling out clothes and items, stuffing them into a suitcase. The man looked
like he was already halfway out of this life.
I stepped further in, and my eyes caught on the framed picture above the bed. My mother.
I stared at it for a moment. The elegance in her smile. The grace she always carried. And I realized, Martha had been
sleeping in this room, under that picture, for over two decades. That wasn’t marriage. That was penance.
“Get the f**k out,” my father growled, not even turning around.
I didn’t move.
“I’m sorry, Father,” I said, voice quiet but steady. “I’m sorry I insinuated you had anything to do with her death.”
He paused, then looked up. His eyes were red, swollen, raw. The man had been crying long before I ever walked in. He
studied me for a moment, trying to see if my apology was real.
Then his shoulders sank. He sighed.
“I’m not over it, Lucian,” he said. “It still feels like yesterday. Every day, I wake up and… I expect her. Sometimes, I wish I had
eaten that damn meal with her.”
He wiped his face with the back of his hand.
“She was so full of life. So smart. I loved her. We eloped, you know? Not for wealth or status, I wasn’t rich then. I was just running my family’s little business. She had more money than I did, but none of that mattered.”
He sat heavily on the edge of the bed, lost in memory.
“When we got married, we merged our companies. She held the majority shares, it was her name on everything. I insisted.
I wanted her family to know I wasn’t with her for money. I loved her for who she was.”
His voice cracked.
“I was never going to give Darian anything except Mooncrest. That was his. He’s my son too, I couldn’t leave him with noth ing. But Driftwake? Steel Corp? That was yours. Always.”
He looked up at me.
“I already made the transfer before Lydia wrote me that letter. Go check the records if you don’t believe me. The dates are
all there. I put your name on the documents when you were ten.”
I blinked.
“Natasha left you her share in her will. And I gave you mine. All of it. I only said she owned everything so Martha wouldn’t
start making demands. You know how she is.”
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He let out a breath, shaking his head.
“Natasha was the reason the Nighthorn business survived. We built Steel Corp together. I couldn’t let another woman
touch it. I couldn’t let it be tarnished. I… couldn’t let go.”
He went quiet, then patted the space beside him.
I crossed the room and sat down.
For a moment, we just sat there, side by side. Two men linked by grief, legacy, and a love neither of us had truly been able to put into words.
He hadn’t been perfect.
But neither had I.
And somehow, this quiet moment felt like the first time we had truly seen each other in years.
“I loved your mother,” my father said, his voice soft, his gaze distant. “We met in Neev. Fell hard. She was… everything.”
He looked over at me.
“Mara reminds me of her. Strong. Opinionated. But kind, nurturing. Wise. That was why I chose her for you. Everything I told her parents the day we arranged the marriage, I meant it. It had nothing to do with Martha.”
He exhaled, slow and heavy.
“I wanted the best for you, Lucian. And Mara was the best. I don’t regret it. I’ve never seen you this happy before.”
There was a pause, then a confession that dug deeper.
“I first spoke to the Thornridges about it when she was seventeen. Aiden said no. But I waited. Watched. I hated every
second she spent with Darian. I thought she’d go down the same path as those other girls… but she didn’t. She held on to
herself. She’s loyal. She’s strong. And you’re better with her.”
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Yes, she challenges me. Sometimes she’s blunt. Disrespectful even. But I see the way she looks at you. I see how you are
with her. And I love you enough to be glad, even when I disagree.”
I looked at him for a moment, then asked the question that had sat in my chest since I got back.
“Then why did you cheat?”
His shoulders dropped.
“I didn’t.”
He met my gaze, unwavering.
“Katya has always been… poison. Paranoid, bitter, and always waiting for me to slip. From day one, she made Natasha question everything, my motives, my love, my loyalty. Being married to the last of the Redlocks wasn’t easy, Lucian. Especially with that woman around.”
He rubbed his forehead, the memories weighing him down.
“Your mother and I were struggling to conceive. I was willing to wait, but she was determined. She wanted a child, desperately. She brought up the idea of a surrogate. I didn’t like it. We argued. A lot.”
Then he looked at me. “She wanted to go to Neev. She said the women there would do it for money.”
I interrupted, uncertain. “But… Aunt Katya said you pressured her. That she only agreed because of you.”
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<184 The Picture Over The Bed
His face twisted, a mix of pain and disgust.
* Parts >
“Katya said whatever suited her narrative. I never pressured Natasha. I swear to you, it was her idea. Katya promised she’d find someone in Neev. I didn’t want to go, but I went, for Natasha. But when we got there…”
He shook his head.
“They treated me like filth. Said I was manipulating her. Said she deserved better. You’ve been there, you know how it is. Those girls… young, poor, trying to survive. I helped a few. Gave scholarships, paid fees, helped some leave that life
behind. That was all I did.”
Then came the name.
“I met Martha there. She was working in a run-down hotel, desperate. She kept making advances, but I didn’t bite. I loved Natasha. Still do. But I found out she had problems, an ill mother, no support. I gave her money so she could quit the
hotel. That was it.”
He paused, face hardening.
“But while I was doing that, Natasha kept getting anonymous messages. Accusations. Threats. Women claiming they were with me, I didn’t know a single one. Someone was trying to drive a wedge between us. And they succeeded.”
He sighed.
“I started taking her with me everywhere. I tried to prove I wasn’t cheating. But she’d already stopped believing. Between Katya’s venom and her growing doubts, I couldn’t reach her anymore.”
He leaned forward slightly, voice low.
“She asked for a divorce. Said she wanted to separate. Even though we were bonded, soul bound, I agreed. Just to give her peace.”
He looked up, eyes shining.
“I never cheated on your mother, Lucian. Not once. But Katya? She was determined to make sure no one believed me.”
I studied him for a long moment.
“Why?” I asked quietly. “Why would she do that?”
