Page 76 of On The Edge

“Good. Good.” He pats my hand. “She’s not Spanish.”

My smile is tight. The reins of my heritage held tightly. “It’s nothing serious.”

He nods. His actions may show age, but his eyes are now very astute. “Your father became distracted. He lost his edge. He ruined his entire career over a woman who . . . wasn’t worthy of our name.”

My shoulders square at the mention of my mother. She’s not a favorite around here, but she’s still my mother regardless of how much I agree with him. I meet his eyes but don’t speak. It’s not my place to. He is who he is and if there is anyone in this world I respect, who I don’t mouth off to, it’s him.

And not just because he’s my grandfather, but more so because he’s the only man in my life who has looked at me with love in his eyes.

I’m not immune. I’m the one he thinks will reclaim our name. But at the same time, it’s more. It’s love. It’s adoration. It’s everything I wished my father would look at me with but doesn’t.

Tough love is one thing. Bitterness that your son is better than you a completely different thing.

“Come closer,” he whispers, and I lean forward so that my ear is near his lips. “Very proud of you.”

My throat closes up. The praise I yearn to hear, he gives me. Our eyes meet again, and I nod because words escape me.

“Papá.” And there he is, like fucking clockwork, the pecking order now corrected. My dad waltzes across the space, a glass of whiskey in hand for el patriarca, and an irritated glance my way.

Yes. I got to him before you could get here and listen. Before you could try and steal my own thunder for yourself.

“Dom,” he says, reaching a hand out to squeeze my father’s and accept the whiskey he places in the other.

There are five generations of Navarros here tonight for our family dinner. And yet the three of us standing here are the only ones capable at this time of carrying on the family name. Every other male here is through marriage.

You’d think that would count for something but, by the way my dad takes my grandfather’s wheelchair and pushes it away from where I stand, it’s clear I’m still the outcast for one reason or another.

Once my grandfather is settled at his designated place at the center of the table with the oldest generations closest to him and the youngest ones toward the ends, my father moves back toward me.

“Glad to see you came to your senses and moved on from the American,” he says by way of greeting as he hands me a fresh glass of wine. I don’t respond, don’t have to because he’s so used to carrying on conversations with me by himself, he just keeps going.

“I wasn’t aware you were going to be here,” he says, “but it’s perfect that you are.”

That’s an unexpected turn of events.

“It is?”

“I took the leisure of calling Esmerelda and inviting her tonight. Lucky for us she happened to be home this evening.” He motions to a stunning woman lingering on the edges of the patio with my cousins. She’s curvy with classic Spanish looks—dark hair, dark eyes, and light brown skin. Her smile is wide and her gaze is suddenly on me as if she knew he was about to introduce her into the equation.

She smiles and I return the same as is polite.

She’s been a family friend for years. Always there, always hinted at as the perfect and almost equal companion to me.

It’s only fitting that he uses her to drive the point home right now. How he no doubt had her waiting in the wings just in case I showed up.

Would I fuck her? She’s gorgeous enough, yes. Would I actually refrain? As a fuck you to him, definitely.

But Esmerelda is all show. Just window dressing trying to catch her claws in anything with money to fulfill her lavish tastes.

Sounds like someone else. My mother.

“Of course, you invited her. I’m assuming her pedigree is worthy of the Navarro name?”

“It is. Yes.”

“It better be, considering you’ve been fucking her aunt for months.” I lift my eyebrows as I bring my drink to my lips and murmur, “Since you’re making it a thing that we judge who we stick our cocks into, right?”

His jaw works as he stares at me. Grit those teeth any harder they just might crack. “That’s completely inappropriate and disrespectful to your mother.”