Page 68 of The Billionaire and His Forever

It’s Graham.

His eyes lock on mine, and I almost spit my iced tea.

“Am I interrupting something?” he asks coolly.

Dad whips around in his chair, his whole body going stiff when he sees the imposing figure standing behind him. My heart is still racing at the sound of Graham’s voice—that familiar voice, lilting and fierce and powerful. But why is he here? We’re done. He’s over me. He hates me, he all but said as much before he walked out of the apartment in New York.

I drop my gaze and notice the fear that flickers across Dad’s face, there one second and gone the next, and I’m suddenly even more interested in why Graham Ratliff is here in my family’s home in Darien, when he should be tucked away in his Hudson Valley estate.

“Graham! What are you doing here?” Dad frowns, rising from his chair.

“I came to set things right,” Graham says, his face like stone.

Set what things right? My heart starts to pound. Dad and Mom share a quick look, his of panic, hers of confusion.

“Look,” Dad says, “if there’s some order of business to discuss, we can set up a call this week. But you can’t just barge into my house in the middle of a family dinner and act like—”

“Oh, but I can,” Graham interrupts, surveying the table and my parents, his eyes barely skimming over me. He leans casually against the sideboard. “You see, I have a very interesting bit of news to share. As you all may or may not be aware of, two million dollars recently disappeared from my bank account, only to reappear shortly thereafter in an offshore account. One with Abbie’s name on it. But it wasn’t Abbie who stole the money, was it?”

“What?”I blurt. My whole body goes hot, my stomach twisting as his words sink in.Myname? Jesus. No wonder he was so convinced I stole from him. The crime literally has my name all over it. But how is this possible? I didn’t do it. I’d never—

And then I look across the table at my father.

“Graham. Come on, man. This isn’t…this is—” Dad stutters, his face going pale.

Graham waves away the words my dad is tripping over. “There’s no sense in trying to talk your way out of it, old man. I have all the evidence I need that you transferred the funds while you had power of attorney. Clearly, your plan to use Abbie to get my money wasn’t moving fast enough for you, so you took matters into your own hands. “

“Plan to…use Abbie?” Mom says haltingly, her hand going over her heart. Then her eyes narrow. “Ford, what is he talking about? What was theplan?”

It’s exactly as I suspected—my mother had no clue what was going on. Of course she didn’t. She never would have stood by and let my father manipulate me the way he did. I can’t believe I ever doubted her.

“You really didn’t know?” Graham turns to Mom, anger radiating off him. “Your husband sent your daughter to my house this summer to seduce and extort me. Because he’s broke. I guess he figured pimping out his child was the only solution.”

Mom gasps, a look of horror on her face.

“Bullshit,” Dad spits. “You have no proof. This is nothing but speculation and theatre.”

Graham reaches inside his jacket, withdraws a stack of folded papers, and throws them onto the dining table. “There’s your proof. And plenty of it.”

Dad pushes back from the table and stands, pulling a fist back, but before he can swing, Graham decks him square in the jaw. Dad staggers into a glass cabinet, hard enough to break some of the dishes inside. Mom watches, a hand over her mouth, her back against the wall.

Graham turns to me. “Abbie. I am so sorry. I should have never doubted you. And if you’ll give me another chance, I will spend my life making it up to you. Can you forgive me?”

He holds out his hand, but I’m frozen, still processing everything that just happened.

“I…I don’t know,” I say truthfully. “It’s not that simple. I don’t even know if…we can work.”

“We can. We can work,” he says softly.

I shake my head. “No. It’s not that simple. Do you have any idea what you put me through? I’m not going to be in a relationship with someone who doesn’t trust me. With someone who can just throw me out like trash without a look back. I thought we were going to have a life together, and you took it all away—you didn’t try to see if we could figure it out as a team, you didn’t give me the benefit of the doubt, you just…walked away.” I’ve been getting louder and louder as my words run together, my anger flaming in my chest. I’m practically shouting now, and even my parents look shocked. “Do you have any idea how it feels to have every single man in your life treat you like a toy? Something to play with and use and then discard when you decide you’re done with it? I’ve had it with powerful men abusing me.”

My chin starts to wobble, and I blink back the sting of tears. I’m furious. Indignant.

“I’m not your fucking toy,” I say, stepping back from him.

Suddenly, I feel a warm arm around my shoulders. It’s my mother. Standing at my side.

Graham closes the gap between us, dropping to his knees, gazing up at me with pure love. “No, you’re not. You’re not a toy at all. And you’re right, I fucked up, I threw you away, threw us away, and I will never stop regretting it. But Abbie, I swear by all that is sacred,I love you. I love you and I trust you, with my heart and my soul, and my daughter loves you, too. You are our family. Come home with me. Please. Give me another chance. I need you. We need you.”

---