“I know, but—”
I interrupted him. “You don’t get it Jack,” I said as my smile faded away. “You don’t have the same expectations I do.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” He spoke quietly, and for the first time I thought he might be opening up to me. “Father holds me to the highest standards imaginable. I don’t think I’ve ever done something right in my life.”
“But you still have freedom,” I said. “You can marry who you want. If you got a girl pregnant, do you think they’d force you out of the family for it?”
He hesitated just a moment too long. “Come on, Ashleigh,” he said. “Come home.”
“No,” I said. “I’m not coming home, and you can tell Stuart to stop tattling to my brother like a little boy.”
“Stuart’s only angry,” Jack said.
“Start’s a vindictive murdering piece of shit,” I said. “And an abusive motherfucker. You knew that already though, didn’t you?”
“Ash,” he said. “You’re being a little dramatic.”
I let out one sharp laugh. “Of course you think that. You all think that. It can’t possibly be so bad. I should suck it up and do my duty for the family. Well, I’m sick of playing along and being your whipping girl. Tell Father or whoever asks that I’m done with the family. He can cut me off.”
A short silence from Jack. I was practically trembling, but I could feel the power in my words reverberate through me. Leaving the family was no small thing—it meant giving up a lot of money and privilege. My life without my trust fund and the Adamson name would never be the same again.
And yet I thought back to breaking Stuart’s office, and to feeling Gian deep between my legs, and I knew I was making the right call.
“You’re making a mistake,” Jack said. “Take some time and think about it. You’ll understand once things with that guy go sour.”
“It isn’t about him,” I said, although I wasn’t so sure about that. “It’s about making my own choices.”
“Think about it,” he pressed. “I won’t tell Mother or Father about what happened, but please, think about your future.”
He hung up before I could argue. I have been thinking about my future—which was why I wanted to get the hell away from them.
Maybe people outside of my position wouldn’t understand. I could imagine someone thinking I was crazy for giving up all this money and privilege.
But to me, it was a gilded cage. I was rich, but I had no freedom, and if I went back then they’d force me to marry Stuart or someone exactly like him.
I had my baby to think about now. I couldn’t risk putting my child into that family, not when I knew just how toxic it would be.
And yet I wanted to stay here with a gangster. Gian seemed like he wanted me around, and he said he wanted to be in his child’s life, but I didn’t know if being here was the safest choice possible. I should’ve been thinking long-term, but every time I tried to imagine what my life would be like with the baby after he was born, I couldn’t see anything but a blank blurry face.
I was living for the moment. It was selfish, and I’d have to start planning—but for now, it felt too good to stop.
“Who were you talking to?”
I turned around. Gian stood framed in the doorway, shirtless and gorgeous, head tilted to the side and a little smile on his lips. I raised my phone up and shook it.
“My brother,” I said.
“How’d that go?”
“About what you’d think.” I drifted further into the back yard. It was a concrete slab with some patio furniture on the left, a little charcoal grill that looked unused, small flowerbeds that had gone to weed, and the tall, thin tree with its gray bark.
“You don’t have to listen to them anymore, you know,” he said, his voice still husky from sleep.
“You keep saying stuff like that.” I crossed my arms, suddenly chilly from the cool morning air. “But what do we do, long-term?”
“I’m not thinking that far in advance,” he admitted. “I’m trying to survive right now.”
“That’s the problem though,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m not either and I’m starting to worry.”
I looked back and he came toward me, moving slow. He was like a tiger, rippling with muscle and exuding powerful grace. I let him come, wanted him to come, and he stopped inches in front of me. His hands lingered on my hips and I felt so small compared to him, a tiny bug in his shadow, and I loved it.
“You’ve lived your whole life worrying about the future, haven’t you?” he whispered. “Always wondering if you’d be able to make your family proud. What if I told you that none of it matters? That you don’t need to be that way anymore?”