Chapter 47

Chapter 47
Dad was silently looking at me, his expression unreadable. I couldn’t quite capture what he was feeling, but after a moment, he finally spoke.
“So that’s what you think of me?”
“I don’t understand. I’m supposed to praise you for raising someone else’s daughter?”
“Matter of fact, you should. At least Helena never lied to me.”
“It’s unfair to punish me for what Mom did.”
“Listen, get your grades up and I’ll get back to paying your college fees.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I don’t know if you realize, Alex, but I’ve been trying. You know how your mom was. Why is it that I’m the one suffering for all of this, when she’s the reason that marriage broke?”
“You’re the man, Derek. You should have fixed it.” I stood up, not seeing the use in this conversation anymore. “I get it, I’m not your favorite, but at least treat Emma right.”
“I’ve given Emma everything.”
“Except protect her from your vicious wife.”
“Helena is the reason I still pay for your tuition fees.”
“And the reason my sister calls me all night, crying.”
“You expect me to believe you?”
“Believe what you want, Derek. I know you have your doubts about me being your daughter, but Emma is. You did the test yourself, so at least try to protect her.”
Yes, I remembered the arguments where there were doubts about me being his daughter. But Emma had health issues, and the only person who could help her was her biological father. So they did the test, and he helped—because she was his daughter.
I just never understood why he didn’t do a DNA test on me. I guess I never took interest in it either. I didn’t want to know. Because what if he wasn’t my father? Was I supposed to go looking for another crackhead man to fill that role? Since those were the people Mom associated with?
Dad was looking down now. He didn’t seem to have any more words, and neither did I. Picking up the glass of water, I drank it down quickly before walking back to my room.
I needed to calm down before looking for Emma. I wanted to apologize—I hadn’t meant to go off like that in front of her.
But the moment I entered my room, I almost jumped.
Dylan was there.
“What are you…?” I stopped mid-sentence as I noticed someone in my bed. Judging by the soft curls and size, it was Emma.
“She just fell asleep. She was crying,” he said, and I nodded, swallowing bitterly. I couldn’t help but realize I was the reason she was crying.
“I didn’t mean to…” I rubbed my forehead. “I just—”
“You did good.” He cut me off, and I looked up at him, confused. “Confronting your dad. I do that all the time, and believe me, I understand you.” His voice was calm, honest, and for a moment I felt understood.
Yes. In a twisted way, Dylan was just like me. He was also the black sheep of the family.
“Thank you.”
“It’s nothing,” he said, rubbing my arms in a comforting way. I quickly pulled away before I could start feeling some type of way again, remembering he wasn’t attracted to me like that.
“Could… could you watch over Emma for me for a bit?”
“You want to take a walk on the beach?”
“No, but… I have something to sort.”
“No problem. Her nanny was here for her, but she said she wanted to sleep in your bed today.”
Oh, right. I had forgotten. Emma always had her nurse with her, even while traveling. That was one of the few things I was genuinely grateful for.
“I’ll just be a few minutes,” I said. I wanted Emma close, but I also needed to face this now.
“Take your time,” Dylan said, and I gave him a small smile before turning toward the door.
I walked out and headed to Elliot’s room. Dylan was right—confrontation lifts some weight off your shoulders. After facing my dad, I did feel better. And now, I needed to face Elliot.
I knew I’d faced him many times before, but that was always when I was in my emotions. This time I was going as a friend—or at least just as someone who needed to say something.
After everything, especially after nearly dying, I wasn’t even sure I could be his friend anymore. Especially not after sleeping with him.
As I reached his door, I heard the sounds—moans and groans. I wasn’t surprised. Elliot and Paris had clearly decided to have sex. She was his fiancée now. It was bound to happen.
But I still had to face him.
Without knocking, I opened the door and walked in. “Paris, leave,” I said calmly.
“Alex, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Paris asked, now pulling the sheet up to cover herself, while Elliot scrambled to put on his clothes.
I stood there with my arms crossed, showing I wasn’t going anywhere. Elliot glanced at me, sighed, then walked over to Paris.
“She’ll be a minute,” he said, handing her her clothes.
“Seriously?”
“Trust me, baby,” he said, kissing her lips.
I couldn’t help but chuckle. It was still so crazy that I had once been so foolishly in love with this man.
Paris shot me a dagger-filled glare as she got out of bed, still wrapped in the bedsheet. She walked toward me, and even though I’d stepped aside and given her more than enough space, she still tried to shove me—failed, of course, as I moved away before she could touch me.
“Bitch,” she muttered, then slammed the door hard behind her.
“I wonder what you have to say now,” Elliot said as he walked to the desk and poured himself a glass of water.
“You’re a sex animal,” I said, stepping inside.
“Yes, I am. Sex addict, maniac, all of it. So what? And besides, Paris is my fiancée. It’s not wrong for me to taste what I’m about to settle for.”
“Oh. ‘Settle for.’ I see.”
“Now what do you want, Alex?”
“Chloe is pregnant.”
“Pregnant?” He blinked.
“Does she know?” I asked.
He laughed. Hysterically. Then stopped suddenly and walked to the dresser. He grabbed a brown envelope and threw it at me.
“Elliot, what’s this?” I asked, stepping back from it.
“Chloe was never pregnant. She wanted to trick me.”
“What?”
“Oh, don’t act surprised now. I bet you knew.”
“Me?” I asked, stunned. Now that was insane. Why would I know? And even if I did, why would I keep that from him? Chloe and I weren’t close. We weren’t even friends, so—
“She told me you helped her…” he said, then chuckled, “I just don’t get why. I thought you hated her.” He raised his brows, eyes sharp, suddenly serious.
I quickly bent down and picked up the envelope to see for myself.
What the hell was he talking about?