Chapter 168 Choosing Sides

Chapter 168 Choosing Sides
Anthony POV

The clock ticks past midnight, its hollow chime cutting through the suffocating silence of my room. The glass of bourbon beside me is half-empty, its amber burn doing little to dull the edge of my thoughts. Then, the door bursts open with a force that makes the hinges groan.

Darcy stands there, her silhouette sharp against the hallway light, a gun glinting in her hand. Her eyes are cold, unyielding, a far cry from the little girl who once clung to my shadow. "Why, Dad?" Her voice is steady, a blade wrapped in calm. "Why are you still after Cherry?"

I blink, caught off guard, my mind scrambling. I think she's dragging up old sins—my earlier attempts to have Cherry killed. How long was that? Over a year ago? I lean back in my chair, forcing nonchalance. "I've long since dropped any plans against her. Who sent you to play interrogator?"

"Nicholas," she says, her gaze never wavering. "And don't change the subject. When Cherry was pushed into the pool, the security footage got wiped. Guess who that guard used to work for? You."

My gut twists. I didn't do it. I've been careful, laying low, avoiding any direct moves since Nicholas's last warning, waiting for the right moment. But doubt flickers—did someone under me act without orders? I keep my face stone, my voice flat. "I didn't touch her. Never ordered it."

Darcy's eyes narrow, her grip on the gun tightening just enough to notice. "You expect me to believe that?"

"How dare you talk to me like that? Whose side are you on, Darcy? Mine, or his?"

Disappointment flashes across her features. "I thought blood meant something. But you've proven, over and over, that power matters more than family."

I shift in my seat, a smirk tugging at my lips. "Power does matter more than family. Aren't you the one who threw family aside for power?"

She steps closer, her tone sharpening. "What about Justine? Did you know anything about her death?"

"I don't know," I snap, irritation creeping in. I pivot, pointing the finger elsewhere. "If you're looking for culprits, turn to Nicholas and Cherry. They're the ones targeting family."

Her laugh is icy. "You think I'm a fool? Deleted footage, dead witnesses—I've seen you pull these tricks since I was a kid."

Rage flares in my chest. "Watch your mouth, Darcy. Keep this up, and I'll cut you off for good. No daughter of mine defies me like this."

She doesn't flinch. "You cut me off a long time ago. I don't mind doing it again."

With that, she turns on her heel, leaving the room as abruptly as she entered. The door clicks shut, and I'm alone with the echo of her words. My mind reels, dragging me back through decades of resentment.

I see Nicholas as a boy, Donovan and Sophia's golden child, their pride overshadowing my brothers and me. I clawed for my place—schemed, manipulated, even orchestrated Ronan's fall, thinking luck would shield me. It did, until Nicholas swooped in, stealing my shot at power. I tried using Cherry as a pawn against him, only to be outplayed and humiliated.

I thought that chapter was buried, but Nicholas is dredging it up, painting me as the eternal threat. Sending Darcy to corner me—it's a trap, a push to make me confess. I've been under his boot for too long, and now even my own daughter sees him and Cherry as her true kin. Fury surges, and I smash the glass against the wall, shards scattering like my fractured control. I'm isolated, betrayed by the one person who should've stood by me.

Fine. If they all see me as the enemy—if they're pinning crimes like pushing Cherry into the pool on me, fabricating excuses to crush me—then I'll give them a real reason to fear. Despair morphs into something darker, a beast clawing to break free.

My eyes narrow, a crazed glint flickering as I mutter to the empty room, "You don't need excuses to come for me. I'll come for you first."

---

Cherry POV

The weekend arrives. Nicholas drives me to see Lennie, and I'm buzzing with anticipation. Good news has been scarce, but Lennie's waking periods are growing longer. I cling to the hope of seeing him alert, of telling him everything myself.

On the road, my worries spill out. "Do you think he'll recover fully? It's been so long."

Nicholas's hand finds mine, his grip grounding. "He's young, Cherry. Tough as nails. He'll bounce back faster than you think."

I nod, chewing my lip, and we lapse into a quieter topic—naming our unborn child. I've thought about it more than I care to admit. "I've got ideas," I say, a shy smile breaking through. "If it's a boy, Christopher. If a girl, Christina. Both can be Chris, you know? It's... neat."

He glances at me, curiosity in his dark eyes. "Why those?"

"C for Cherry," I mumble, cheeks warming. "And it just feels right."

A rare softness crosses his face. "Boy or girl, they'll be our pride. No question."

We reach the hospital, and my heart leaps as I step into Lennie's room. He's awake, though tethered to a breathing machine, pale but present. His eyes lock on mine, sharp despite the haze of medication. I sit close, my voice a gentle murmur as I update him on the family chaos—betrayals, internal strife, and the baby on the way. He can't speak, but his gaze is intent, drinking in every word.

"I'm making you the godfather," I promise, a lump in my throat. "When you're back on your feet. And hey, I'll even find you a girlfriend to keep you in line." A spark of amusement dances in his eyes, and for a moment, the weight lifts.

Back home, the air shifts as we encounter Darcy waiting in the foyer, her expression heavy with unspoken burdens. She looks at Nicholas, then me, her voice low. "It's done. I've broken with Anthony completely. I'm with you—whatever it takes."

I feel the ache behind her words, the cost of severing that tie. My hand reaches for hers, a small gesture of solidarity. Inside, I'm relieved Nicholas handled this first. I'd wanted to talk to Darcy myself, but he's spared me the role of the villain. "You've got courage," I tell her, meaning it. "More than most."

Her eyes soften, gratitude flickering. "You gave me the strength to do what's right."

Nicholas steps in, his tone steady but warm. "If you're with us, Darcy, you don't have to face him. Blood or not, there's always hesitation. Cherry and I—we'll handle the mess for you."

I catch his eye, and a silent understanding passes between us. A faint smile tugs at my lips, mirroring his.