Charlie raises high eyebrows. He seems interested. ‘Sick bastard?’
I don’t like the glimmer of worry on William’s face when he flicks me a quick glance before returning stone-cold eyes on his brother. But he doesn’t speak.
‘Sick bastard,’ Charlie muses, nodding thoughtfully. ‘Would a sick bastard get a cheap thrill from putting this beautiful girl to work?’
I frown, keeping my eyes on William, seeing him fighting to prevent his body from fidgeting. He’s uncomfortable. It’s a disposition I’ve seen in him before, and when he looks at me, my heart sinks.
‘Would he?’ Charlie asks, almost innocently, but I know what he’s getting at.
‘Don’t,’ William warns.
‘No comment.’ Charlie sighs on a menacing smirk. ‘OK. Tell me this. Would a sick bastard get a cheap thrill from putting his niece to work?’
‘Charlie!’ William roars, but I can’t be startled by the ferocious bellow. I’ve just died.
‘No,’ I whisper, shaking my head furiously. He can’t be. My eyes start darting everywhere, my body convulsing from shakes.
‘I’m sorry, Olivia.’ William sounds defeated. ‘I’m so, so sorry. I told you, as soon as I realised who you were, I sent you away. I didn’t know.’
I feel sick. My eyes find William and see nothing but torture.
‘So you didn’t get a sick satisfaction from allowing my daughter to give her body away?’
‘We’re not cut from the same cloth, Charlie.’ William’s face contorts in condemnation.
‘We’re blood, Will.’
‘You’re nothing to me.’
‘You tried to take Gracie away from me,’ Charlie grates, but I can see the brimming anger isn’t a result of losing a woman he loved. It’s principle. He didn’t want to lose.
‘I didn’t want her in this sick world! And you, you poisonous bastard, made her stay!’
‘She was clearly a good earner.’ Charlie sniffs insolently. ‘We were running a business, brother.’
‘You couldn’t bear the thought of me having her. You couldn’t stand the fact that she despised you!’ William steps forward, aggression pouring from him, making his suit quiver over his ominous frame. ‘She should have been mine!’
‘You didn’t fight hard enough to keep her!’ Charlie roars.
Those words. They make me shiver as the enormity of my mother’s story unfolds before my eyes in the form of two bitter brothers. The dynasty split. William left the immoral bastard to be immoral alone.
William practically snarls. ‘I tried my damn hardest to fight my feelings for her. I didn’t want her in the sickness we immersed ourselves in. You put her in the centre of it. You were willing to share her with your fucking clients!’
‘She didn’t argue. She loved the attention – thrived on it.’
I wince and so does William before a wave of anger travels across his cool face. He’s livid. It’s obvious. ‘She loved hurting me. You monopolised on it. Turned her to drink and brainwashed her. You took sick satisfaction in watching me die a little bit more each day.’
I begin praying, praying this isn’t real, praying that this man’s evil blood isn’t running through my veins.
Charlie smirks, sending that familiar chill down my spine. ‘She had my baby, Will. That made her mine.’
‘No.’ Gracie’s melodic tone drifts into the room, pulling everyone’s attention to the doorway, where she’s standing, back straight, chin raised high. She steps into the room, and I can see the bravery she’s fighting to maintain in Charlie’s presence. He still frightens her. ‘Olivia isn’t yours and you know it.’
My eyes widen and I look to William, finding him studying my mother, searching for an extension on that statement. ‘Gracie?’
She looks at him but quickly backs up when Charlie moves forward threateningly. ‘Don’t even think about it,’ he snarls.
‘He sent me away when I told him Olivia wasn’t his.’
Charlie visibly starts to shake. ‘Gracie!’
She jumps, but William and I are both motionless. ‘He threatened to harm her if I told anyone.’
‘You fucking bitch!’ He lunges for her, but William intercepts, knocking him back a few metres with a swift fist to his cheek.
William roars in anger, heaving and pulsing as Charlie staggers back and my mum screams. ‘Never touch her!’ he bellows, shaking his fist, eyes enraged.
My mind focuses amid the madness unfolding. Charlie’s not my father? I’m too shocked to be delighted at the news that Charlie, in fact, isn’t my father. I can’t cope with it all. I’m being delivered information at a speed too fast for my fraught mind to cope with.
Gracie pulls William back but soon steps away, like she’s frightened of him, too. ‘He promised to leave my baby alone if I disappeared.’ She glances at him warily. She looks ashamed. And William looks like he’s seen a ghost. ‘He promised to let you . . .’ She takes a long breath. It’s a confidence-boosting breath.
‘No,’ William murmurs, his jaw ticking. ‘Gracie, please, no.’
‘He promised to let her father live if I disappeared.’
‘No!’ He throws his head back, shouting to the heavens, his hands diving into his grey hair.
My world implodes. The wall behind me catches me when I stumble back, disoriented, and I push myself into it, like it could swallow me up and remove me from the horrors I’m facing. William’s head drops, a million emotions invading his face one at a time – shock, hurt, anger . . . and then guilt when he finally manages to look at me. I can’t possibly give him anything. I’m a statue. All he’s got to go on are my stunned eyes and frozen form, but he really doesn’t need any more than that.