The Last Letter(75)

And in return, she was giving me a family, as screwed up as the justification was. The kids would be mine, in every way that mattered to me. I could love them, protect them, make sure they had everything they needed. I’d get Maisie approved for every treatment and make sure Colt knew I had his back every day of his life. I’d prove myself to Ella, show up until she couldn’t doubt me ever again, and then I’d win her heart.

Until she finds out what you did.

Yeah. That. It didn’t matter how hard I tried to ignore it, my secret hung over my head like a guillotine.

At least the kids would be protected when Ella kicked me out. It wasn’t like she’d unadopt the kids or risk Maisie. This was the one way I could fulfill my promise to Ryan and placate my aching heart, knowing one day the past was going to catch up to me.

My cell phone dinged, and I swiped to open the message app.

DONAHUE: Updated papers are ready with new dates. You sure about this?

My fingers paused over the keys. I was sure that I wanted Maisie to live, and this was the only means to that end.

GENTRY: Yep. But it doesn’t mean I’m coming back.

DONAHUE: You keep telling yourself that.

I slid my phone into my pocket, not bothering to reply.

“Mr. Gentry,” a voice called out from behind me, and I turned around.

“Mr. Danbury,” I answered. So this was Jeff. He basically looked like an overgrown frat boy who’d been poured into his father’s suit. His hair was blond and slicked back, his eyes gray and calculating.

We shook hands, and I quickly took my seat across from him at the conference table, scared that I’d lose it and crush him for having touched Ella, let alone abandoning her and the kids.

The hell with him. He didn’t deserve her, and he sure as hell didn’t deserve them.

He adjusted his suit coat, and I did the same, unbuttoning the bottom button. At least Denver had good, fast tailors.

“So what can I do for you, Mr. Gentry?” he asked.

“I understand you’re the youngest junior partner at your firm.”

“I am. Just graduated law school as a matter of fact.”

“Perks of having a dad with his name on the wall?” I asked, motioning to the firm’s name.

His smile fell. Jeffy-boy didn’t like having his silver spoon brought up. Guys like him were all the same—they’d had their cushy lives handed to them, and they despised any speed bump that kept them from the prize. God knew he’d run right over Ella.

“I consider it part-ownership in the family business,” he said with a shrug.

“Ah, family. I’m so glad you brought that up.” I pushed the manila envelope across the table, and he caught it.

“What the hell is this?” he asked, scanning the paper.

“You know what it is, unless that fancy law degree didn’t teach you how to read. Sign it.”

He read it again and then put it down slowly. Then I saw it, the look that said he thought he had one up on me now that he knew what I wanted.

“What did Ella pay you to do this?”

“I’m sorry?”

“There has to be a reason. It’s been years.”

“There is. I’m adopting the twins.”

His smirk fell off his preppy face, and his gaze dropped to my hand, looking for a ring. “You marrying her?”

“I can’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“Well, seeing as you’d like to adopt my kids—”

All emotion drained from my body in a familiar retreat. The sensation the same as every time I stepped into combat, preparing me to commit unforgivable atrocities.

“They’re not your kids,” I said.

“Yeah, I’d beg to differ on that, considering how many times I screwed her in the two months we were married. Small-town girl with a small-town mind just wanted a ring first.”

If Havoc had been here, she would have gone for his throat based on my tension level alone.

“You might be their biological father, but you’re sure as hell not their dad. You’ve never so much as seen them, spoken to them, or had any interaction. They. Are. Not. Your. Kids. They’re mine.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, that sweet pressure was back in my chest, the love I had for them overpowering my instinct to void my emotions.

“So what exactly is in this for me?”

“Are you serious?”

He shrugged. “Consider it a business transaction. You want something I have. What are you going to give me for it?”

“How about I tell you what I’m not going to give you?”

He sat there expectantly while I did my best to keep a level head.

Three things: Maisie. Colt. Ella. They were the reason and the only things that mattered.

“I’m not going to give you the over-two-million-dollar bill for Maisie’s cancer treatments that’s going to come due in the next year.”

He swallowed but showed no other outward sign of hearing me.

“Reason enough? Or we can just add her to your insurance, since you’re so keen on calling them yours. I’m sure that would go over really well with your dad, considering he told Ella about six months ago that he really didn’t care if Maisie lived or died as long as she left him and you the hell alone. I’m sure that would be great for business if it got out.”