Chapter 87 87. Coward For A Father
His skin looked even healthier than in the portrait-real, warm, human in a way the photo couldn't capture.
"Can I come in?"
I sat up slowly, pulling the blanket around me. "It's not my room to say no."
He entered and settled into the armchair by the window. Moments later, Iris bounced in and climbed onto his lap, oblivious to the tension crackling in the air.
"You slept well?"
"Fine."
"The room is comfortable?"
"It's fine."
Iris tugged on his sleeve. "Daddy, Natasha told me we're going to Dinsey World next month! Can I get the Elsa dress? The one you said was too expensive?"
"We'll see, sweetheart."
"But I want it now! Can we order it today?"
"I'll have to talk to your mom first." My father's voice was gentle. "These things require planning."
I rolled my eyes at the two of them.
"Daddy, please! Just say yes!"
"Iris, we'd ask your mom. She is the one that handles these arrangements."
"So you have to ask her first?" I cut in sharp. "Before you can buy your daughter a dress or plan a trip?"
His jaw tightened. "That's not what I said."
"It's exactly what you said." I watched Iris squirm on his lap. "You gave up more than your name when you married her, didn't you? Sterling became Ashford. But it wasn't just a name change. You became hers."
"You don't understand, Camila."
"I understand perfectly. You were struggling. She was rich. You saw an opportunity and you took it. Never mind the wife and daughter you left behind to rot."
Iris' lower lip started to tremble. "Daddy, why is she talking like that?"
"Camila, please. You're upsetting her."
"Where was your concern when I was upset? When you walked out when I was sixteen? When mom drowned herself in bottles and needles and you were here playing happy family with someone else's money?"
He stood, lifting Iris in his arms. She hid her face in his neck and started to cry.
"We can talk later when you've calmed-"
"I've had eight years to calm down." I pushed to my feet despite my aching knees. "Or do you think I'm not hurt because I'm not crying on cue like your preferred child?"
He exhaled, rubbing his temple. Iris wailed louder. My head pounded with every sound.
"If anyone ever asks what a coward looks like, I'll tell them about you. About Robert Sterling who became Silas Ashford because his wife's bank account meant more than his identity. About the man who needs permission to buy a dress. About the father who watched his daughter all over the news and didn't reach out once."
His shoulders dropped. He couldn't even look at me.
"You were on the news," he said quietly. "I saw you. I wanted to reach out, but-"
"But Seraphina hadn't given you permission yet?"
He said nothing. That silence was louder than anything he could've said.
"I know reaching out to me was her idea, not yours. You don't even want me back. It's all about your wife's guilty conscience. You didn't want me then. You don't want me now. You're just doing what she tells you to do."
Iris pulled at his collar, her face red and blotchy. "Daddy, I want to go! I don't like her!"
"I think we should continue this conversation later." He backed toward the door.
I followed. "Wait." He turned, Iris still crying on his arm. "Do you... Do you at least have the evidence Gregory mentioned?"
His expression shifted. He looked away, then back, then away again.
"We'll talk about that this evening. I promise."
The way he said it made my stomach drop.
"There is no evidence."
"Camila-"
"Or there is, but it comes with conditions. Or Seraphina made it up to drag me here and you went along with it."
Dad opened his mouth, closed it, then turned and carried Iris down the hallway. Her crying faded with their footsteps.
I stood in the doorway, chest tight, hands shaking. I knew coming here was a mistake.
Footsteps approached. Seraphina appeared with folded clothes, her silver hair pulled back neatly.
"Good morning, Camila. I hope you slept well." She held out the clothes. "These are Natasha's, but I think they'll fit you."
"I don't want your charity."
"Oh." Her smile slipped.
"Your attempt to make me feel like I belong here, to ease your guilt about stealing someone else's husband... it all SUCKS."
The color drained from her face. "Camila... is that what you think of me?"
"You got pregnant with his children while he was about to get married to my mother. You destroyed my family. And now you stand here offering me hand-me-downs like that makes up for anything?!"
"I'm not trying to fix anything. I just want to know you. You're part of this family, Camila. You're Silas's daughter, and I love Silas-"
"I'm not part of anything. You took my father. You took my name. You don't get to take my anger too."
Her eyes glistened. She blinked rapidly to steady herself.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so, so sorry for what you went through. For-"
"Stop." I couldn't listen to another apology. "Just stop."
Just then, Natasha burst in. She saw her mother's tears and spun on me.
"What did you do to her?"
"Natasha," Seraphina tried, "don't-"
"No. No one makes my mother cry. She's been nothing but kind to you, and you're being a bitch?" Natasha glared like she wanted to claw at me.
"Kind?" I laughed under my breath.
"Yes, you ungrateful charity case with an ankle monitor. You should be on your knees that we even want you here."
"Natasha!" Damon's voice cut through the room as he appeared behind her. "That's enough. Take Mom downstairs. Now."
"No, I'm not done with-"
"Now, Tasha."
She shot me one last venomous look before leaving with Seraphina. When they were gone, Damon stepped forward. "You okay?"
"I'm fine." It was a lie.
"No, you're not." He pulled me into a hug before I could protest. His arms wrapped around me, one hand cradling the back of my head, steadying me. I was stiff first, then I sagged against his chest.
"I just want to go home," I whispered.
"Okay. Can I take you?"
I nodded into his chest, letting his warmth soothe the ache in my heart.
"And... can you... please let me know what happened to Lucien... last night... after they dragged him away." I stuttered, because deep in my heart, I knew I shouldn't be concerned or caring about his well being, but I just needed to know before leaving.
Damon pulled back. "You sure?"
"I need to know."
He studied my face, then nodded. "Come on."
We went downstairs to a room lined with security monitors. Damon pulled up the footage from outside the main gate.
I watched them drop Lucien's unconscious body. The guard stood over him with the gun, and one joined him minutes later. The footage sped up. An hour passed before Lucien's body jerked. He rolled onto his side, pushed himself up. The guard shouted and pointed the gun.
Lucien stood slowly, swaying. He looked at the gate, then at the guard, then back at the house. He didn't leave.
The guards kept their guns trained on him, but he refused to move. Minutes crawled by, until headlights cut through the darkness. A car pulled up. Rafael got out first. Then Jessica.
My breath caught.
Rafael approached with his hands up. He said something and Lucien shook his head.
Then Jessica leaned in close to Lucien, her mouth near his ear. Whatever she said made his entire body go rigid. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. He looked like he could have put his fist through her face.
They were locked in a heated stare...
"Please don't go with her... Please don't go with her..."