Sloane

 

Ramses introduced me to Bocelli as his daughter that night, his daughter who thought she’d finally been starting to get her shit together.

Instead, I got to meet one of the most prolific artists in the world with a tight smile and a churn in my stomach. Both of which I tried to play off and did so poorly enough I excused myself from the conversation. I told Ramses nerves when he came to check on me, and the rest of the greetings I had with his colleagues were the same. Eventually, I just asked to get some air, and Ramses was nice about it. Especially when I said I had nerves. He let me hang out on the balcony, checking on me whenever he could. Since his gallery was featuring Bocelli, he had to mingle, and I was glad because I hated lying to him about how I was actually doing.

Dorian: How’s everything going? Having fun?

Dorian had asked this hours ago, a text I stared at more than once. Currently, my thumb hovered over it, at a loss for what to say. He gratefully hadn’t been there at Ramses and Brielle’s after I’d finally arrived to get dressed.

The nausea swirled again.

Closing out the text, I hung my head over the balcony but lifted it when someone joined me out there.

Ramses brought a lidded paper cup, two actually. I knew them to be serving hot chocolate inside, and he handed me one when he got beside me.

I took it, pretending to be happy about it. I obviously wouldn’t be drinking it since my stomach was still so messed up.

“Surprised to find you still out here,” he said, bundled up just like me. He wore a dark suit under his wool coat, and I had one of Brielle’s black dresses beneath mine. I’d been afraid any dresses I had wouldn’t be fancy enough for tonight, and we were surprisingly close in size. Ramses smiled. “Still nerves? I promise you. All my colleagues just love you in there, and Bocelli was seriously eyeing that piece you gave me.”

Ramses had insisted on hanging it in the gallery’s foyer when I gave it to him earlier tonight, and it was the first thing spectators saw on their way in to see tonight’s featured artist.

I’d been honored when he had done that. Especially when he’d said he couldn’t wait to get it home and up in his office downtown. He’d said he worked there the most, and he wanted it to be the first thing he saw when he arrived for the day. He had said that like a dad whose kid gave him something he valued, treasured.

It’d actually all brought tears to my eyes after he told me that and made me feel so guilty. I’d been quiet the entire time we’d driven up here and hiding most of the evening so far.

I just couldn’t help it, though, forcing out a stiff breath before finally looking at him with a faux smile. I shrugged. “I’ve never been great at things like this. Better behind the canvas, I guess.”

This wasn’t a lie, and probably the only honest thing I had told him tonight about, well, me. I kept saying I was fine whenever he asked and just nervous since I was being so quiet.

“I get you on that.” His smile stretched. “And it’s definitely the same for me. In the boardroom, I’m fine, but put me at one of these things, and I’m all over the place.”

Probably because he was passionate about it. Not to say he wasn’t at his other job. I knew he was in real estate development, but things were different when an artist was truly in their space. If he was anything like me at all, he probably lived his art. Breathed it.

“It is getting cold out here, though,” he said. “Might want to head inside. Warm up?”

He said this, and I did let him walk me back inside because I was cold. I thought we’d mingle again once we returned our coats to coat check, but instead we walked the floor.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” he questioned, obviously having noticed I hadn’t taken a sip of my cocoa. He studied me. “You seem different tonight. Maybe even a little down.”

Holy crap. I really wasn’t good at hiding it.

I can’t talk about this.

I thought I might cry if I did, and I definitely didn’t want to do that shit here. I swallowed. “Can we just sit? Relax?”

“Sure.” Taking my cup, he waved me to do just that. There was a quieter area of the gallery, less foot traffic there, and we sat on the leather couches. “This better?”

I nodded, playing things off again. “I’m awkward. Forgive me.”

He waved me off. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for. And this is overwhelming.”

I glanced away. He’d gotten me water from a server on the way to the couches, and I held the bottle.

“You sure nothing else is wrong?” He sat back, his head tilted. “We can leave if you’re feeling ill or something else.”

I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to understand all this and all this shit that just kept swirling around me for some reason. I felt like a friggin’ magnet for it.

“Can I ask you something?” My throat worked. “Something about our family?”

His expression inquisitive, Ramses leaned forward. “Of course. What do you want to know?” Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FɪndNovᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

I wanted to know a lot of things. Like I said, I just wanted to understand. My jaw shifted. “Can you tell me about my grandfather?” I asked, causing him to blink. “Your father?”

Ramses hadn’t been expecting this, clearly, when he put his hands together. Being real, I didn’t know what I’d say before I actually said it. He pulled his fingers down his jaw. “What, um—” He paused, threading his fingers. “What do you want to know about him?”

This was obviously a sensitive subject and probably just as sensitive as Callum was to his own family. These men had caused so much hurt, and I didn’t want to hurt Ramses. I waved a hand. “Never mind.”

“No, it’s okay. What do you want to know?” he asked, his voice serious. “I’ll tell you whatever you need.”

“I guess I just want to know why he did what he did,” I whispered. I studied the grains in the hardwood floor. “How he could cover up something like that and…”

I didn’t finish, and Ramses sighed. His lips tightened. “My dad told me once he believed, at the time, he’d done it for family. He wanted to protect my mom and me, and unfortunately, my uncle too. He was family, so yeah, my dad did want to protect him.” He shook his head. “But Dad later admitted he’d done what he had because he’d been trying to protect the family name, his image as much as us.”

My chest clenched. “Where is he now?” I knew he’d been in prison, but not now. Former news articles and Ares had told me that. Callum had served time too, but he was obviously out.

“That’s not something you or any of us have to worry about. I know for a fact fate and circumstance claimed my father’s life some time ago. He’d gone missing, and I looked into it. I hadn’t seen him in years before that, though, and Ares never knew him. My father vowed to stay away before he was born, and that was something he honored.”

“What happened to him?”

“I won’t get into the details, but it was an accident, a tragic one, and I was sad to hear it.”

I gazed up, his smile small.

“I was at peace by the time I found out, and before everything that happened all those years ago, my father and I had a good relationship. He was strict, tough on me, but there was love there, so yes, I was sad to hear it.”

My head lowered, I stayed silent.

“Any particular reason why you’re asking about him?” Ramses attention focused on me.

I stared off. “I just wondered what kind of person or… people could do such a thing.” My lips pressed together. “I mean, we share the same DNA. What’s in him and my great-uncle is in me and…”

Ramses cut off my thoughts before they could surface, his hand raised. “Uncle Leo and my father both made a decision back then. They decided to do what he did and only them. These were both choices they made about the people they ultimately decided to become, and that has nothing to do with DNA.”

But didn’t it? Obviously, there were choices, yes, but…

Callum had spoken to me about demons today, darkness. He’d obviously done the wrong thing too like my grandfather and my great-uncle’s choices.

And why couldn’t that be passed down?

It could have been, completely it could have been, and that had to be the only thing that explained other things today. Things about Dorian…

“You are not your grandfather or my uncle,” Ramses continued, sighing. “Neither is Ares or me, nor is Dorian his own grandpa, who you know is also connected to all this.”

I covered my arms, his words chillingly accurate to my thoughts.

“You kids have all unfortunately suffered from those who came before, but you are not them, okay? You’re not, Sloane. We all have choices. We all have freewill, and the only thing that determines who we ultimately become is what we do with it.”

That was my biggest fear, but not for me. We did all have freewill. We did all have the ability to make choices outside of our DNA.

And I think that was what scared me the most.

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