Deception (Infidelity #3)(60)

I’d seen their glances, their silent conversations shared by lovers. Despite everything Alton had done, seeing the way they looked at one another often left me feeling sad and empty. I wasn’t my husband’s love, his soul mate, or even his partner in life. I was merely his winning lottery ticket, the one he kept crumpled in his pocket. As long as it was there, he was rich beyond his wildest dreams, more powerful than any Fitzgerald before him, and in control of the kingdom bestowed upon him by Charles II.

Tonight was different.

The physical pain I saw in Suzy’s eyes made me flinch. Something had happened, something that left her not only uneasy but fearful.

Questions crept into my consciousness—things I’d never allowed myself to think or at least to dwell upon. Had Alton abused her, the way he did me? Had he hurt her, with more than the pain of rejecting her to marry me? Did she know the things he’d done? Had he told her? Had she seen?

As I stared at her grave expression, I felt an unusual twinge of sympathy for my best friend. In her gaze, I read a tale. Perhaps it was the years we’d been friends. Perhaps it was because of what we’d shared. Whatever the cause, I saw it, plain and simple. She was a woman who’d sacrificed her dream of happiness for her son. A woman who’d given away the man she admired and adored to let him achieve his desires.

She was a woman who for the first time had truly seen the monster behind the mask. Suzanna was looking at Alton as if she’d just met him. As if she’d just seen the extremes to which he could and would go to make his dreams come true.

Anguish emanated from her as if she were seeing her dreams dashed for the first time. As if she were looking at the person to whom she’d stupidly given her past, present, and future, only to watch him casually hold it in his grasp, with the ability to crush it with one word.

Her dark eyes shone with a terror that I personally knew too well.

Bryce, on the other hand, was pacing near the far end of the conference table—angry, defiant, a caged lion—as heat radiated from his body. Never before had I noticed the resemblance to his biological father. I’d always allowed myself to associate his coloring with Marcus’s. Truly, Suzanna’s ex-husband and Alton hadn’t been that different in their physical stature. But in this room, Bryce was Alton, complete with red leaching from his neck to his cheeks, and even his ears. The way his chest expanded and contracted with every breath stilled my steps. Though Bryce could be very different, in that second I knew he could also be his father, despite his ignorance of his true parentage.

I said a silent prayer of thanks to God for letting me know about the codicil and for a daughter who stood up not only to me, but also to Alton and—unbeknownst to her—her grandfather’s wishes. I’d been wrong about the young man near the end of the table. Bryce wouldn’t make Alexandria a good husband any more than Alton had made one for me.

Perhaps I had na?vely hoped that adding love and friendship to the equation would tame the beast within. Looking at Suzy and her current state of devastation, I knew that wasn’t true.

Nothing could calm Alton’s rage once it was ready to unfurl, and in my heart, I knew Bryce would be no different.

Quietly, unnoticed by the other occupants of the room, I slipped into my chair at the large table with my glass of wine firmly in hand. As if my entrance had opened a valve allowing some of the pressure to release, each participant slowly followed suit: Alton, Suzy, and finally at his father’s prompting, Bryce.

I wanted to ask what had happened, what everyone else in the room knew, but I was better trained. I would learn when it was my turn to learn. This was Alton’s show, and it would progress on his terms.

“I don’t understand—” Bryce began.

“No!”

Suzy and I both sat taller at Alton’s reprimand. Though I’d heard that tone directed at both Alexandria and myself, never had I heard him speak to Bryce with it.

Somewhere between a kicked puppy and a stunned shark, Bryce stopped, his gray eyes wide as he stared the length of the table.

Alton ran his hand through his thinning hair and stood, simply unable to contain his anger. His chest expanded and contracted. The sound of his labored breathing filled the office as we sat watching and waiting. I looked again toward Suzy.

Once again, our eyes didn’t meet. Hers were downcast as a trail of tears made its way down her pale cheeks.

Confident of my innocence, I considered speaking. Before I could utter a word, Alton poured Cognac from a decanter into a crystal tumbler. One finger, two, he kept pouring. I bit my tongue as he took the glass to his lips and drank. His Adam’s apple bobbed as the fiery liquid undoubtedly scorched his throat. He didn’t stop.

Once the glass was empty, he turned and threw it into the fireplace. Everyone took a collective breath as shards of crystal fell like snow, littering the hearth. Had there been a fire, the reflections may have been beautiful; instead, they fell to the ashes, their luster extinguished.

“Maybe we should have told them.” Alton spoke to the room.

Suzy’s eyes met mine for the first time this evening, as they swirled with a combination of sadness and confusion.

No one dared speak.

“I can’t even find the fucking words,” Alton began as he sat with an exaggerated huff. “Bryce has taken it upon himself to secure a…” He shook his head searching for the right word. “…relationship.”