Page 77 of On The Edge

I chuckle loudly and draw the attention of some of our family. The drink goes down a little smoother this time. Leave it to him not to see the hypocrisy here. “And fucking a woman who isn’t your wife is the epitome of respect, no?” I say as I swirl the liquid in my glass. “The irony that you’re concerned with me being disrespectful to your lover when you’re the same to mine, and you’ve never even met her.”

“I don’t have to meet her to know she’s not right for you.”

“Just like I don’t have to fuck Esmerelda to know her aunt’s a gold digger leading you around by the balls.” I shake my head and step in a little closer. “You stand here on your pedestal thinking you’re better than I am. I have the same blood running through my veins too, old man. I’m your legacy. Push too hard and I just might fuck it up to spite you.”

“I’m not someone to fuck with,” he grits out.

“Then don’t tempt me.” I take a step back and meet his eyes. “Give my best to Esmerelda. I have a girlfriend. The one you need to leave the fuck alone.”

I stride away toward the table, hating the emotions bellowing through me. Hate for the man who raised me. Love for the man who nurtured me.

“Is she here? The American?” He wanted her to be here . . .

“Very proud of you.” He loves me. My family is as rich in knowledge and love as they are in love for each other. It’s a legacy I’m proud of. Amazing to be part of it.

Except for one man, whose hypocrisy and narcissism knows no bounds.

So why the fuck do I still want to please him?

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Cruz

Dinner is full of small talk. Of inside jokes that can only be understood by one another. Of a lot of wine and even more food.

I came here needing this. The connection. My family. And when the dessert is done and the sun has set, leaving the sky awash with color, I sit with my feet up, another glass of wine in my hand, and Sofia beside me in much the same posture.

“I met up with Lennox when I was in London,” she says about my agent who she’s become friends with.

“Nothing good ever comes out of that for me,” I groan, thinking of the last time they met up and Sofia spilled details on my personal life.

“Hey, she’s good enough to kick ass for you, she’s good enough to be a friend to me,” she teases. “Besides, she’s awesome.”

“She is.” Where is she going with this?

“So, we were talking, and she shared the details about this whole situation you’ve got going now since you’re a guy and never tell me the good stuff.”

“Which situation would that be?”

“The one where you have a pretend girlfriend?”

“Remind me why I told you?” I groan and rest my head back. But I know why I did, because I was livid about it that first night and had to confide in someone. And besides Lennox, she’s the only one I could have.

“Maddix was your choice?” There is confusion laced in her voice. “Why didn’t you tell me she was a real person with a real life and not some actress paid to play the part?”

“Because it’s not important.”

“Clearly she was, or you wouldn’t have plucked her out of obscurity and thrown her into all this mess with you.”

“I’m well aware of what I did.” What’s the point, Sof? Because you never ask without having a reason.

“Tell me about her,” Sofia says softly, her eyes straight ahead, but the question that has been lingering in them all night finally spoken aloud.

And there it is, folks.

“Not sure what you mean.”

“You’re so full of shit. You know exactly what I mean.” She takes a sip. “Tell me about the woman you came here tonight to make a statement for.”