Their Reign (The Rite Trilogy 3)

Vincent Douglas. We’re both thinking it, but neither of us says it.

“How are things between you and your brother?” I ask.

“Okay, actually. We’re doing well. Ivy and I, too. She’s a little crazy when it comes to shopping for the babies.” She smiles, and I’m glad to see it, glad to hear this.

My phone dings with a message, and I remember all those notifications but ignore it. “I will take care of you. All of you, you know that, right?”

She tilts her head, eyes scrutinizing me. “What makes you think we need taking care of?”

“I’m their father.”

She shakes her head. “You don’t have to do anything. You don’t even have to acknowledge them. I don’t need your money. I don’t need your name. I don’t need anything from you.” I’m not sure if she intends that to cut, but it does. It cuts deep. “Besides…” She sets her fork down, her face closing off, that woman upstairs who was giggling vanished. “I know it would be difficult, what with you being the next councilor of The Tribunal and—”

“I don’t give a fuck about The Tribunal.”

She shrugs one shoulder, gets up, and takes her still full plate to the sink. I follow her, standing behind her as she wipes off the dish.

“Stop,” I say. She elbows me so I take her wrist. “Stop, Mercedes. Talk to me.”

“What do you want?” she asks, not looking at me.

I don’t answer. I’m not sure how.

She turns to face me. “What do you want, Judge? Why did you come? To give me a necklace?” She reaches to unclasp it, but I stop her.

“You keep it on. Always.”

“Why? What the hell does it mean?”

“The house is quiet without you. Lonely without you.”

She snorts. “You can’t have me back halfway. I won’t settle for that.”

“I’m not asking for that.”

“Then what are you asking for?”

My mother’s words repeat in my head. The terror in her eyes when I turned the table over.

“I feel sorry for the woman you’ll marry one day. You are just like him, Judge. Exactly him.”

My phone pings. Mercedes shoves to get free, but I keep my hands on either side of the counter, trapping her.

“You’d better get that,” she says.

“Mercedes, you know why I can’t marry—”

“You know what, Judge? I’m not asking you to fucking marry me. It’s arrogant of you to think I am. But I’m also not okay to be your booty call on a rainy night when you’re drunk.”

“You’re not—”

“That’s what the women at the Cat House are for. For the Sovereign Sons to use as they please. So do me a favor. Stop coming here. Stop watching me. And just stay out of my life so I can get on with it, okay? You think you can set your selfish needs aside for one fucking minute and do that one thing for me? Or is it too much to ask?”

Her eyes are wet by the time she’s done, and my goddamn cell phone starts fucking ringing now. I reach to mute it, and she shoves me away, slipping past to the hallway.

“Come back here, Mercedes.” I go after her.

“Go home, Judge,” she says, opening the door.

I slam it shut and take her arms. “I don’t want any woman at the Cat House. I want you. You.”

“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I don’t want you?”