When I'm with You (Because You Are Mine #2)(106)
“Because family is very important to me,” Lucien replied. “And for better or for worse, you’re the only blood family I know of at this point. You’re my half brother, Ian.”
Chapter Sixteen
Ian collapsed heavily onto the leather couch. For a moment, all four of them didn’t speak. The silence seemed to press on Elise’s chest, making breathing difficult. Ian looked like he’d just been clobbered, but Elise also sensed his mind working . . . churning . . . sifting for answers.
“Trevor Gaines?” he finally asked Lucien.
Lucien nodded once. Elise had never seen him look so sober.
Francesca went and sat down next to Ian. Ian numbly took her hand and squeezed it.
“What was Gaines in prison for?” Ian croaked.
“I’m not sure you want to know that right now,” Lucien said.
Francesca’s face looked ashen. Something flashed in her dark eyes as she stared at Lucien’s solemn face.
“I agree. Of course we’ll have to hear more about this, but later. We need to go to London, Ian.”
Ian looked into Francesca’s face. She saw the sleety misery in his eyes when he gazed upon his fiancée . . . the dawning emptiness.
“I want to know,” Ian said. “I’ve wanted to know about the son of a bitch that was my father for most of my life. You know that, Francesca.”
“Whoever your biological father was won’t change who you are,” Elise heard Francesca whisper in a pressured fashion.
“It was for rape, wasn’t it?” Ian rasped, seeming not to have heard Francesca. “Trevor Gaines was a rapist.”
A wave of dizziness struck Elise in the short pause that followed. She didn’t know if she swayed or not, but suddenly Lucien was staring at her, his hand on her elbow. She sat automatically when he lowered her to the couch.
“He was indicted on two counts of rape, but by all accounts he was probably guilty of more. It was only the two they had sufficient evidence on to prosecute. But there’s something else. I might as well tell you,” Lucien said. “Now that you know his name, you’ll find out soon enough. In addition to being a rapist, Gaines was a serial reproductionist.”
“What’s that?” Elise asked when no one spoke. Lucien glanced down at her. What she saw in his eyes made her want to weep: a hopeless sadness, a bitter disgust that could never be purged.
“A serial reproductionist has a sick obsession with impregnating women. He does it by seduction and craft—by discovering women’s cycles and sabotaging birth control, perhaps weakening a condom to ensure it breaks during intercourse, increasing the likelihood of impregnation. He might compulsively give sperm for insemination. When his means fall short, he might resort to rape. Trevor Gaines used all three tactics, and quite possibly others that we aren’t aware of. The police suspect that he impregnated close to twenty women, although Gaines often bragged to Herr Shroeder—the private investigator I hired—that there were more. Many more. We were like trophies to him.”
Nausea struck Elise when she realized the we Lucien referred to was all of Trevor Gaines’s offspring.
“Until you understand the psychological profile of such a man, it’s very difficult to comprehend his motives and actions . . . and even then . . .” Lucien shook his head.
“I think I remember reading something about him. The Gentleman Rapist—or something idiotic like that. Isn’t that what the English newspapers called him?” Ian asked.
Lucien nodded. “He was a wealthy man, with supposed noble blood, as well as being a brilliant scientist and inventor. He was also one of the sickest f*cks ever born. He wanted nothing to do with his children. He just got some twisted, narcissistic satisfaction out of knowing he proliferated so greatly, planted his seed far and wide. It was all a twisted game to him, the selfish bastard,” Lucien added bitterly under his breath.
“Lucien, this all seems so far-fetched,” Francesca said suddenly. “How can you possibly know that this man is yours or Ian’s father?”
“In my case, I know because he agreed to a blood test. Trevor Gaines definitely is—or was—my biological father.”
Elise made a shaky sound at his barren tone. She hated seeing his pain exposed, and she had no one to blame but herself for what she so unexpectedly witnessed.
“Was?” Ian asked sharply. “Don’t tell me he’s dead.”
“He just died several weeks ago, of a sudden heart attack while in prison.”
“He’d better be thankful from hell that he died naturally,” Ian muttered viciously, his sudden blaze of anger sending a chill through Elise. Francesca’s eyes widened in anxiety as she studied her lover’s profile.
“I’ve had similar thoughts ever since I discovered what he was,” Lucien said, and Elise heard the edge of bitter fury in his tone as well. “Unfortunately, Gaines must have realized his progeny might feel that way, because he refused point-blank to see me. I assume it would have been the same for you. As I’ve learned, a prison can keep people out just as effectively as it keeps people trapped inside.” He paused, holding Ian’s stare. “I’ve wanted to tell you. For a long time now. But how does one go about revealing something like this? It’s not as if it’s happy news. I wasn’t sure how you would take it. I’m still not sure, but after tonight . . .” He paused, glancing at Elise. Her heart plummeted in her chest. “It seemed impossible to keep the truth from you anymore.”