Page 30 of Wicked & Wildflower

But if I turn him in and he gets out of it, there would be no barrier between him and I—between him and Darby—to keep him from attempting to destroy us again or genuinely trying to take Lou away as a form of punishment.

“What about your mother?” Malcolm asks, breaking me from my thoughts.

My mom isn’t evil like my dad; she's just weak. She never stood up for Darby or I one single time, instead letting our father spew his hatred. She was content to sit back and watch, to play trophy wife and let us wither away. I think if I had never become a mother myself, I might have forgiven her for it, but I know that I’d go to the ends of the Earth for my daughter’s well being. No status, money, or stability a man could provide me would keep me from putting her first. So, seeing my own mom put my sister and I behind herself time and time again only proved my fears that she simply doesn’t love us the way a mother should.

“She’ll go along with whatever our father demands,” Darby answers for me.

“Alright.” Malcolm nods. “Well, my official advice would be to build that support system. Establish yourself at work. Find a home for your daughter. Make connections. Plant roots, essentially.” He wipes his hands. “Play nice. If her father asks for updates on her, provide them. Eventually, if you’re right about him, he’ll tire himself out and go away. If not, then you fight him, or whomever else, in court.” Malcolm looks at Leo. “I’ll have my assistant email over a list of family law practices for you to look into.”

I thank Malcolm profusely for his help, wrapping up a plate of lemon bars for him to take home to his husband and their kids. As he leaves the kitchen, Leo in tow to walk him out, I feel the weight of the situation bear down on me as I fall against the counter and bury my face in my hands. My sister silently rubs my back as we wait for Leo to return.

The front door shuts, and heavy footsteps pad back into the kitchen when Darby says, “I just don’t understand why Dad is going to such lengths. What is his endgame? Does he think threatening us, scaring us, is going to bring us back? Going to make me marry Jackson?”

“Over my dead fucking body.” Leo rounds the island and plants a kiss against Darby’s forehead. “I think that man has been in control of every aspect of his life for so long, he’s not capable of comprehending what it’s like to lose it, to lose power over other people. He’s probably falling apart because, in his brain, if he can’t control his own daughters, how is he going to maintain control of all the other people in his life? He thinks the power he held over you and your family is what made people respect him, and now he’s lost it. He’s probably losing his mind too.” Leo sighs. “There is no logic to his actions. He’sjust scrambling for any ounce of power he can get back, and honestly, he’s probably trying to get revenge too.”

Leo isn’t wrong. For having never met my father, he somehow understands a great deal about the man, though I shouldn’t be surprised. He has had a front row seat to my dad’s antics since he was seventeen, seen firsthand the way he broke my sister and I down, how much work it’s taken to help Darby piece herself back together.

One thing Leo is wrong about, one thing I can’t seem to find the strength to voice, is that my father has another motive for all of this. The documents sitting in my nightstand that could potentially put him in jail for the rest of his life, tear down his business— the only thing he truly cares about…

I have the power to destroy that, to destroyhim.

The protective instincts in me won’t allow me to get my sister involved. I know she’d be upset about me keeping her in the dark over it, and I feel guilty—I’m lying to her about so many things, but I can’t stomach adding this one to her plate. I took it upon myself to blackmail our father, something I know she would’ve never done because she’s the better of us. I won’t put this on her shoulders.

“Dahlia?” Darby’s soft voice filters through my thoughts.

My head whips sideways, clashing with her soft, hazel eyes full of worry and concern. I hate that I’m lying to her. I hate it so much that I blurt, “I had sex with Everett.”

Her brows knit together, concern morphing into confusion. Her blonde hair falls off her shoulder as she tilts her head and crosses her arms. “Okay?”

Leo’s face pops around her a second later, his jaw dropped. “MyEverett?”

“YourEverett?” I ask.

At that, the tightness in my sister’s mouth widens into a grin, and she begins laughing. Her entire body shakes with it, andshe covers her mouth, glancing down at the floor like she’s not able to stop herself. Leo and I are both staring after her with perplexed looks.

“I’m sorry,” she giggles, clearing her throat. “That’s kind of funny. What made you say that?”

Shaking my head, I say honestly, “I don’t know. I felt guilty keeping it from you, I guess.”

She laughs again. “When did this happen?”

Leo leans over the counter, bracing his head on his hands, as if waiting for the explanation too.

“Do you remember when Monica set me up on that blind date a few weeks ago while you guys were still in Portugal?”

They both nod.

“You said it was a bust.” My sister raises a brow at me.

“The date Monica set me up on was a bust, definitely. That doesn’t mean I didn’t run into a different guy at the bar who was hellbent onrescuingme from said busted date.”

“Sounds like my brother,” Leo mutters.

“He didn’t know who I was,” I snap back defensively. “We agreed not to share names. We weren’t ever supposed to see each other again.”

Leo frowns. “I can’t believe he didn’t tell me.”

“I told him not to. I told him to pretend it didn’t happen.”