Chapter 62 Adeline
Adeline’s POV
"Leaving?" She didn't have enough time to conceal the shock on her face. This must be a surprise for her seeing as she was anticipating my leave, and instead, she gets Percy and I, stronger than ever.
Tiny is already moving, brushing past her to disappear into her corner of the penthouse.
Lucia’s eyes dart from Tiny to our joined hands.
"Percy?" she asks, her voice hitting that perfect note of maternal concern. "What is going on? Why is your security guard going to my room and Adeline? You're still here."
Percy stops a few feet away from her.
I have seen Percy angry and upset, but this is different. In this moment, he is a lawyer that is hell-bent on discrediting a witness during cross-examination.
He reaches into his suit jacket, pulls out the folded documents, and tosses them onto the counter.
"I went to the firm archives today," Percy says flatly. "I wanted to update my trust, and what do you know? I found the original relinquishment agreement from twenty-six years ago and the transfer receipt attached to it."
Lucia looks down at the papers, and we all watch in silence as her face transforms from a woman playing a victim to a woman with a sick sense of entitlement to a son she threw away.
"Richard always was a meticulous bastard," she sneers; her voice is completely different.
"Five million dollars," Percy states like he's talking to a stranger witness instead of his own mother. "You looked me in the eye at lunch, cried about your hotel bill, and let me hand you my credit card while you were sitting on a five-million-dollar payout for abandoning me."
"It was twenty-six years ago, Percy!" Lucia snaps, waving her hand dismissively. "Do you have any idea how much it costs to live in Europe? Five million was a pittance for what I gave up. I gave him my flesh and blood! I gave him an heir!"
"You sold a child," I interject, the disgust obvious in my words.
Lucia’s eyes snap to me. "Oh, shut up, you little hypocrite. Don't look at me like you’re some saint. I saw the blueprints. I saw the way you look at this penthouse. You’re securing your bag the exact same way I did. You’re just using a pretty face and a sob story to do it."
Percy’s grip on my hand tightens. "Don't speak to her," Percy warns.
"Why? Because she’s the victim?" Lucia laughs bitterly. "Grow up, Percy. This is the real world. Richard bought you because he needed a legacy. I sold you because I needed to survive. And she is marrying you because she needs a bodyguard and a blank check. We are all just doing business."
"You..."
She leans against the counter, crossing her arms again, suddenly looking confident. "So, I spent the money. So what? I’m your mother. You have hundreds of millions sitting in a trust that unlocks the minute you say 'I do' to this cunt. I deserve a cut, too. Tell you what? Ten million and I’ll go back to Rome and you’ll never see me again."
Percy smiles in response, but it's not a smile at all. It is a terrifying expression. "You think this is a negotiation."
"I think you don't want a scandal," Lucia counters smoothly. "I think the board of Royal & Associates would be very interested to hear how unstable the firm's owner is. Bringing mob violence to their doorstep. Dragging the Akilov name through the mud with her trashy ex-boyfriend and her criminal father. I think Richard would be furious if I gave an exclusive interview to the Times about the company you keep."
"You’re right," Percy says softly. "Richard would be furious." He reaches out and taps the yellowed contract on the counter. "But you didn't read the fine print of your own sale, Lucia."
Her confident smirk falters. "What?"
"Section four, paragraph two of the non-disclosure agreement you signed twenty-six years ago," Percy recites. "Breach of the non-contact and confidentiality clause results in the immediate clawback of the principal sum of five million dollars, subject to compounding annual interest at a rate of eight percent."
"What are you saying?" The color drains from Lucia’s face.
"Do you know what five million dollars compounded annually over twenty-six years is, Mother?" Percy asks softly. "It is just over thirty-six million dollars, and as the executor of my own trust, I have the right to enforce that debt."
Lucia takes a step back to glare at the papers. "You... you wouldn't."
"If you ever contact me again," Percy says. "If you go to the press or call Richard, no, if you so much as breathe my fiancée’s name to a stranger on the street, I will freeze every asset you have, set you up, and I won't stop until you're living in the streets, and then, I will have you arrested for extortion. How does that sound for a negotiation? Do we have a deal?"
Lucia’s mouth opens and closes without saying anything just as Tiny emerges from the hallway, carrying two large designer suitcases and a garment bag.
"Bags are packed, Boss."
"Get out..."
"You..."
"Get out before I change my mind and lock you up anyway," Percy says to her.
She seems to want to say something, but the hard look on his face stops her.
"Fine." She snatches her purse from the counter before striding rigidly to the elevator.
Tiny follows her in, and she maintains eye contact until the doors close.
I didn't realize I had been holding my breath until then. Percy's shoulders slowly drop, and I see how hard it must have been to discard his own mother like that.
I let go of his hand, step in front of him, and wrap my arms tightly around his waist. We stand there in the middle of the kitchen, holding each other together.
"I’m sorry," he whispers, his voice thick. "I’m so sorry, Adeline. I brought her in here. I let her do that to you."
"You didn't know," I say, stroking his hair. "You wanted a mother, Percy. There is nothing wrong with hoping she was real."
"She made you pack a bag," he murmurs, pulling back just enough to look at me, his eyes filled with guilt. "If I had been twenty minutes later..."
"I’m still here," I promise him, reaching up to cup his face. "I am not going anywhere. She was the last secret, Percy. We know who the enemies are now."
He nods, leaning his forehead against mine. "Just Ilya."
"We can handle him," I whisper. "Together."
For a few minutes, we just breathe. The storm inside the penthouse has passed. Another enemy squashed and hopefully for good.
Just as my heart rate begins to settle, a sharp, piercing sound shatters the quiet, and we jolt apart instantly.
It’s Percy’s phone. He pulls it from his pocket and stares at the screen with a clenched jaw.
"Who is it?" I ask, the dread instantly returning to my body. "Is it my father?"
"No, it is my own father."
"Richard?"
"Do you know what he wants?"
"Let's find out." He picks the call.