from me and I find out about it, all the shit you’ve done for me in life will mean nothing. I’ll bury you in an unmarked grave after taking my time snapping every bone in your body. Are we clear?”
He didn’t immediately answer. I could feel the hesitation in him.
“Let’s start with where you went after the fight tonight.”
Another hesitation. My fingers gripped tighter, the tips digging into muscle, fingernails scraping skin.
“I was meeting with a woman.”
I shoved him harder against the wall. A love tap that bounced his skull on the plaster.
“Who?”
“The woman I have living in Moritze’s compound. She started working there right after he contacted me about the information he has on us.”
Interesting.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this last time we talked?”
He hesitated again. I gave him another love tap, a groan crawling up his throat when bone met plaster.
“Because I don’t know yet if she’ll be able to find the information we need.”
“Speaking of,” I said, leaning into him even more, “what does Moritze know about Lisbeth? You must know how angry I was to hear him taunting her about something right in front of me.”
“He doesn’t know-“
Plaster dust fell to our feet when I slammed his head again.
“Don’t lie. Your bones are extremely fragile. More than you realize, and I have the patience of a saint when it comes to breaking them one by one. I saw your face, Franklin. What Moritze said rattled you. I’d like to know why.”
Franklin went quiet, his eyes clenching shut before opening again.
“Leave this alone, Callan. It doesn’t matter.”
The tip of my nose brushed his ear. I felt him shudder, whether from disgust at the odd intimacy or from the threat, I wasn’t sure. Either way, it bothered him.
“It matters to me.”
“You’re a dick. You know that?”
I grinned. “Tell me something I don’t know. Like what Moritze knows about Lisbeth for starters.”
Silence bled between us. One second, then two. But then Franklin’s body relaxed, the fight draining out of him, resignation melting the tension from his shoulders.
On a deep breath, he confessed, “Lisbeth isn’t Katrina’s daughter.”
I stilled at the mention of Katrina’s name.
“Which means what exactly? She’s not a Rose. Not the heir of the family estate?”
“No. I didn’t say she wasn’t Marcus’s daughter. She just had a different mother.”
Brows tugging together, I loosened my hold on him. Not enough to release him, but enough that pain wasn’t shooting across his muscles.
“You should explain why I didn’t already know this.”
“Every family has their secrets,” he answered behind gritted teeth.
I let him go, my body moving back as he pushed from the wall and turned to face me. Plaster dust smudged his cheek, a red mark on his forehead showing where he’d have a nasty bruise. I didn’t feel bad about damaging him. This shit with secrets and lies was going to end.
“I’ll give you a chance to be completely honest with me now. But I swear to God, if you don’t tell me everything-“
“There’s nothing else to tell,” he barked, his hand moving to brush the dust from his jacket, to examine the knot forming on his skull.
“Who is Lisbeth’s mother, and why is this yet another secret?”
Rolling his eyes, Franklin shot me a look that all but said I was a fucking idiot.
“And ruin the Rose reputation? Do you think Katrina would have been okay with people knowing she never had a child and instead her husband knocked up a whore? Fuck, Callan, you’re not dumb. I think it’s obvious why she would choose to raise the child as her own rather than give up that information. The bitch was far too fucking vain to admit her husband had a wandering dick. So, rather than take the hit to her pride, she adopted Lisbeth, raised her as her own.”
My teeth clenched. I should have known it had everything to do with the vanity of Roses. It was the worst sin of the family, the one weak thread that had threatened to destroy all of us at one time or another. Even me. Even Lisbeth.
And for what?
To keep an iron grip on pride?
It was becoming obvious that none of us had a valid claim to it.
Not with all the secrets.
Not with the constant presence of all our lies.
It had to change because the weight of these secrets had become a burden that was slowly crushing the walls in around us, burying us beneath bullshit that shouldn’t matter.
“Who is her mother?”
“A former slave. Which is how Moritze ended up