Beautiful Lies (Breaking Belles #2) - Alta Hensley Page 0,67

Elders looking for some kind of clue as to what they wanted to hear, but the faces of the men remained emotionless. I couldn’t read them, but I could see that Walker’s dad wanted me to plead my case.

Plead… beg… hell, I would get down on my knees for this if I had to.

So that is exactly what I did.

Releasing Portia’s hand, I took a few steps closer to where the Elders sat. I got down on my knees and bowed my head, pausing so the full effect could sink in for each man deciding my fate.

“I admit that I have not respected the Order up to this point. I have not respected the VanDoren name. In fact, I have tried to resist it in every single way. But I am here, on my knees, begging you all to have mercy on the woman behind me. We can’t fail the Initiation because an innocent woman will die if we do. The belle’s wish that would be granted is to have the Order secure a kidney for her dying sister. We only left the Order because her sister is very close to dying, not because of my lack of respect for the Order.”

I lifted my gaze from the floor so that I could look each elder in the eye. “Please. I am a VanDoren. My father sat among you. He was your friend, your brother, your colleague. You respected him.” I set my stare on Walker’s dad. “And though you don’t respect me, I ask you for the sake of my father to grant his son lenience. Can you do it for him? For the VanDoren name. Please.”

And there it was. I was a VanDoren and using the power of that name to get what I needed. I was using my father to help me when I never thought I would allow it. But I needed him. Maybe not in life, but I needed him now in death. I needed my heritage. I needed my ancestry. I needed what my dad had worked so hard to build.

I suppose I could have always tried to use my name for good rather than run and hide from it. I suppose I could have been a man and not tried to fight it but embrace it instead.

Being a VanDoren didn’t need to be a curse. It was a name I could be proud of.

Maybe it was too late, but I had to try.

“My name is Sullivan VanDoren. It is my birthright to be a member of The Order of the Silver Ghost. I respectfully ask the Order to grant me that right.”

The first elder who had beat his cane to start the ceremony did so again. Loud beats of wood against marble caused reverberations to run up my knees as I remained in a position of submission and humility.

“Mr. VanDoren, please leave the ballroom with your belle so we can discuss the matter brought before us.” He hit the cane again as the period to his request.

Realizing I had been holding my breath, I released it and stood. I cast a glance at Montgomery who gave me a reassuring nod before I approached Portia who stood motionless with tears in her eyes.

I placed my hand on her lower back and guided her out of the ballroom as was expected.

“All we can do is wait,” I said.

“You… you… did that for me?” she said as a single tear ran down her cheek. “You got down on your knees for me in front of those men you hate. You fought for us. You—”

I silenced her with a kiss, firm and possessive. I needed her touch just as much as I was sure she needed mine. Pulling away, I swiped at the tears that continued to fall from her bright blue eyes. “There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you. For your sister. And from this moment on I’ll be the warrior by your side even if that means me dropping my sword.”

She wrapped her arms around me and pressed her face into my neck. In the softest mumble, I heard words that I never knew would mean so much to me. “You aren’t the man I expected, Sully VanDoren. I can’t ever thank you enough. What you did for me in there. What you said… I know it wasn’t easy.”

“No, it wasn’t. Fucking made me sick. But if it makes them take pause and not instantly fail us, then I would kiss each of their feet