That’s ending right now. I raise a fist, and I knock.
There’s the sound of footsteps, and purposefully turn away from the door, betting that Tony uses the eyehole to peer through.
“What is it?”
“Room service, Mr. Gold.”
“Mr. Gold” is Tony’s hilariously unsubtle fake name he’s been using to check in to resorts.
“I didn’t order—”
“Champagne,” I hold up a bottle, my face still turned. “Compliments of the management.”
“Well fuckin-a!”
The door unlocks, and the second it swings open, I’m whirling, and I’m on him. Tony shrieks, stumbling backwards as I charge into him, shoving him into the room, storming in, and slamming the door shut behind me.
He pales as I advance on him, stumbling back into the sumptuous suite just as Celine steps out of the bedroom. Her eyes go wide.
“Marshall?”
Her jaw drops before suddenly, panic blazes across her face.
“Oh God, is everything—!”
“Kendall is fine, Celine,” I growl, my eyes locked on her husband.
“She’s great, actually.”
Tony makes a move like he’s going to dart past me, but I grab him and shove him down into the couch. His eyes say it all—he knows exactly why I’m here.
“Marshall!” Celine gawks at me like I’m insane. “What in the hell are you—”
“There are some things you need to hear,” I say quietly as I turn towards her.
“Don’t listen to him!” Tony bleats out, jumping to his feet. “Honey! Don’t listen to this lying sack of—”
“SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP!” I roar, whirling on Tony with fury in my voice.
He stutters, swallowing thickly.
“Sit,” I hiss, pointing to sofa.
Tony sits meekly.
“Good boy.”
I turn back to Celine, taking a calming breath.
“Celine, your late husband’s money is gone.”
Her brow furrows as she shakes her head. “What?”
“Josh’s money. It’s gone. Tony lost it.”
She smiles awkwardly. “Oh, no… no, that’s not true, Marshall. Tony’s just been restructuring our financial—”
“It’s gone, Celine. Poof. Vanished. Bad investments and shitty management by Tony.”
She blinks, and I can see she wants to say something, but slowly, I see it dawn on her. And deep down, I think what I’ve just told her is something she’s maybe known on subconscious level and buried away. But slowly, it’s coming to the surface.
“Gone?” She says quietly.
“Gone.”
A shadow crosses her face, and she whirls on Tony.
“Is he telling the truth?!”
Tony swallows.
“Answer her,” I hiss.
Pathetically, Tony nods.
Celine screams, whirling and shoving her fingers into her hair as she starts to pace the room. “Oh God, what… what have you done?!”
“Celine, there’s more.”
And then, I tell her everything. Well, almost everything.
I don’t mention The Society, or that I’m a member. Of course, I don’t. I frame it that people I know who know people made it known to me about what was going on with the auction and all of that. But she’s not concerned about the details. It’s when I tell her that her husband was instrumental in emotionally fucking with her daughter enough to get her to offer her virginity for sale on a fucking website that she loses all composure.
Now, I’m a big guy. I was in the Navy for years. But even I struggle to get her away from Tony before she kills him with her bare hands, spitting rage and curses at him.
When I finally get her away from him, the reality of what I’ve just told her about Kendall finally hits her.
“Jesus Christ, did she—” her face falls. “Oh God! Did some asshole—”
“She’s fine, Celine. I stopped it.”
…I mean, it’s a half truth. Kind of.
Celine collapses into me with a sob. “Thank you, Marshall,” she breathes into me.
“Celine, you can do what you want. And no matter what you do, Kendall is going to be taken care of. She’ll want for nothing, and I’m taking care of her college in light of, well, all of this.”
Her brow crumples before she throws her arms around me, hugging me tight.
“Thank you,” she whispers emotionally.
My face hardens as I take a deep breath. It’s time for the rest of what I have to say.
“Marshall, that’s just so generous of—”
“There’s something more.”
Deep breath.
I hold her gaze, standing tall, my shoulders squared.
“Celine, I’m in love with your daughter.”
Predictably, the room goes pin-drop silent, and Celine just stares at me.
“It’s not what you think,” I say quietly.
Celine blinks at me, swallowing, her face paling.
“You’re in love with her?” She balks, her nose wrinkling.
“I am.”
“Jesus, Marshall, you’re twice her age!” She whirls, shaking her head side to side and wringing her hands before she whirls on me.
“I trusted you! I sent her to stay at your house because I thought she’d be safe there!”
“And she is, Celine.”
“Not from you she’s not!”
“Celine—”
“This is my daughter we’re talking about, Marshall!” She screams, jabbing a finger at me. “She is eighteen years old! And you swoop in to just—”
“I’m in love with her!” I roar, loudly and the room goes silent again as I take a breath.