Chapter 83 83. Silas Ashford
"My father?"
I couldn't remember the last time I'd said those words out loud. Seven years? Eight? Everything blurred somewhere between him walking out and my mother falling apart.
The man smiled politely and folded himself into the chair. "Robert Sterling, although he's changed his name over the years. He prefers to be called Silas now."
He slid a business card across the table. The gold embossing flashed under the shop lights.
Gregory Thorne
Senior Partner
Ashford Legal Group
"How did he even find me?" I turned the card over, the smooth edges catching on my fingers. "Where has he been all this time? And why now?"
"Your father has been searching for you for years, Miss Sterling. It wasn't until your case circulated in certain...underground networks that he was able to confirm your location. As for where he's been, he represents something quite formidable. Ashford Legal Group is one of the most established firms in the country."
"Ashford," I muttered. "So he changed his last name too."
"He married into the Ashford family. It's a well-respected name. He took it when he joined the practice."
My father had a new name, a life scrubbed clean of us, probably had new people who called him dad without the sting of betrayal attached to the word.
"So he's successful now. Good for him." I let out a short breath. "That still doesn't explain why-"
"He saw your situation and wants to help."
"My situation." I laughed once. "You mean this?" I stuck my leg out and tapped the ankle monitor with my shoe. The metal glinted. "This is what finally jogged his memory?"
"He's been trying to track you long before the arrest."
"Lies." My hands curled around the table's edge. "He left me with a woman who thought children were burdens and excuses. She hit me when she was angry, which was most of the time. She drank to forget she had a daughter. You don't walk away from that unless you decide your kid-me-was disposable."
Gregory's expression tightened, sympathy trying to fit itself into his features.
"And Dad knew exactly what she was like," I continued, voice shaking despite how hard I pressed it down. "He knew. And he still left."
"Miss Sterling, your father has reasons-"
"Don't," I snapped. "I don't care about his reasons." I shoved my laptop into my bag. "Thank you for the card, Mr. Thorne, but I'm finding a lawyer who doesn't come with eight years of abandonment attached."
"Your father has evidence."
I paused with my bag halfway onto my shoulder.
"Evidence that proves you were framed. Something everyone else missed." Gregory's voice was calm but urgent. "He's been following your case for the past forty-eight hours. He has the resources to prove your innocence, Miss Sterling. No other lawyer in this city can access it."
I wanted to tell him to go to hell and take his absent father's help with him. The anger stayed hot in my chest, but my pulse faltered.
"Why should I trust him?" I said quietly. "Why trust someone who traded us in for a new name and a better family?"
"Because you may not have another chance." He stood, smoothing his suit jacket. "He wants you safe at his estate until he returns tonight."
"Then... why didn't he come here himself?" I finally met Gregory's eyes. "Why send you?"
"He's currently out of the country on business. He'll be back tonight." The answer came too quickly. "He wanted me to bring you to his home, where you'll be safe while he travels back. His family is eager to meet you."
Something in his rushed tone tugged at me. Off, but not enough to outweigh the possibility of a way out of this nightmare that didn't involve Lucien or his money or his pity.
"Shall we?" Gregory stretched his hand to the other side where the door was.
I looked down at the ankle monitor, at my phone, at the card.
What choice did I really have? This is just to get the evidence, NOT reconcile with dad.
"Take me to him."
The black sedan had leather seats that smelled like money. I sat in the back and placed a call to Maya.
She answered on the first ring. "Cami! Where are you? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. I won't be coming home tonight."
"What? Why? Where are you going?"
"It's complicated. I'll text everything later." I watched the city pass through the tinted windows. "I just wanted to let you know so you wouldn't worry."
"Lucien's gone crazy, Cami. Loco! He is demanding everybody comes out for a mandatory meeting like he's the landlord or something."
My chest squeezed tight at the mention of his name. I pressed my free hand against it like I'd done countless times throughout the day, willing the ache to stop, but it only seemed to spread. My heart hurt. My stomach hurt. Everything hurt.
I ended the call before she could say more and turned my phone face down in my lap.
The drive stretched longer than I expected. We left the city behind, skyscrapers for tree-lined streets and iron gates. When the car finally stopped, I looked up at a mansion that made Ronan's look modest by comparison. Three stories of pale stone and tall windows, with columns framing the entrance.
Gregory opened my door and gestured toward the entrance. "Welcome to the Ashford estate."
The foyer was all marble and crystal. My footsteps echoed as I advanced inside. I took deep breaths, preparing for what I was about to face.
How would his family look at me? With scorn?
I suddenly became painfully aware of the ankle monitor.
'Shit, Camila. Not so confident now, are you?'
I kept walking, until a portrait stopped me mid-step. It hung directly across from the entrance, framed in gold and large enough to dominate the wall.
My father stared back at me, except he looked better than I remembered. Younger, somehow. His hair was still dark with only hints of silver at the temples. His skin had a healthy glow that came from expensive skincare and good nutrition and a life free from the chaos he'd left behind. He wore a suit, smiling the way I'd only seen him a handful of times when I was very young.
Life had been good to him after he left us.
Next to him sat a woman with silver-white hair that cascaded past her shoulders in waves that looked professionally styled. Elegant cheekbones, perfectly sculpted jawline, poised. She looked older than my father, maybe late-fifties, but she wore it like a crown.
That stunning beauty made her heart ache; my mother had been beautiful too, once. Smiling, vibrant, full of life. I'd seen pictures from before I was born.
Between my father and his perfect wife sat a little girl. Seven or eight, maybe. Dark hair pulled back with a ribbon, wearing a white dress with lace at the collar. She had my father's eyes. The same golden-brown shade.
Two people stood behind the happy family. A boy and a girl, both with curly brown hair, both with matching features and matching smiles. They stood with their hands on the backs of the couple's chairs.
The math didn't make sense. I was sixteen when my father left. These twins looked at least twenty-five. Maybe older.
Unless-
My hand went to my chest, pressing hard against the pain that flared there. The cramping in my belly returned once again.
"Camila." A woman's silky voice came from behind me, cultured with an accent I couldn't quite place.
I didn't tear my eyes away from the portrait. From my father's smile. From the family he'd chosen over us.
"I know what you're thinking," the voice continued, closer now. "And yes, I was already pregnant with the twins before Silas married your mother..."