“What is that look you’re giving me? Do you know who I am?” my mother seethed.
“I don’t understand why you’d do something to hurt your son. He loves Andrew. And Andrew, he’s your grandson—”
“He is not my grandson! I’m going to prove it too. I’ll expose you and Devin will see you for who you really are. He’ll leave you in an instant. You don’t love him anyway. Tell me what you really want.”
God, my mother could be horrible. I really needed to stop this. I was about to step in, when Serena said, “Mrs. Roarke, in a perfect world. Devin and Andrew and I would be a happy family. I love your son. More than anything. I ruined that, so you don’t have to worry about him sullying your family with a lower-class woman—”
Jesus fucking Christ.
She continued, “Now as far as proving Andrew isn’t your grandson, that’s not possible.”
“We’ll see about that,” my mother scoffed.
“I was a virgin. Devin is the only man I’ve been with. If it’s not his, then Andrew is an immaculate conception.”
Jesus. My mother didn’t need to know all that.
“Listen to me,” my mother’s voice held a venom I’d never heard before. “I have that boy’s DNA and when I’m done testing it, it will show that you’re a liar. Take the money and leave.”
“No.”
I’d heard enough. I walked into the room. Serena’s gaze caught mine, and she looked a little dazed.
She lifted her chin. “I appreciate your sharing your thoughts, Mrs. Roarke. I have to pass.” She hurried toward the door.
I reached out to take her arm as she passed me. “Serena.”
“I have work to do, Devin.” I saw tears in her eyes, and hated that my mother’s bitterness had put them there. But I released her, letting her leave.
When I knew Serena was out of the room, I said, “Answer her question.”
My mother shook her head like the conversation I just overheard was nothing. “What question?”
“Why would you do something to hurt me?”
“I’m trying to protect you,” she snapped. “She’s trying to pass that boy off as yours. And you’re letting her. She’s not worthy of you.”
“She’s a better person than you, mother.”
My mother jerked like I’d slapped her. “I know you think I’m a conceited woman, but we have a business and reputation to consider.”
“We also live in the twenty-first century. Even in England a prince married a divorced mixed-race American.” I stepped to her. “That boy is mine. I resent you taking DNA from him to test him. If I ever, EVER, hear you dismiss him as mine, I will make it my mission to ruin you.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re ungrateful.”
“I’m protecting my son. Isn’t that what you say you’re doing for me? The difference is that I’m a grown man who can make my own decisions. I know I’m not making the ones that you want, but it’s my life. You accept me and my son, or—”
“Or what?”
“Or I walk. Don’t think I won’t. I’ve invested well and am prepared to buy the clubs from the business. I don’t need you or your money.”
She let out a breath and for the first time, it seemed like her bravado was falling. “Your father’s legacy is on the line here.”
“No, it’s not. What I do is on me. And maybe if you had faith in me, you’d see I could make good choices. The company is doing well. Profits are up this quarter.”
“That woman won’t fit—”
“We’d be so lucky to have that woman in our family. She’s kind and good.”