The Brothers Hawthorne (The Inheritance Games, #4)(25)

“Since the summer she was fourteen.” Acacia’s voice was steady. “I didn’t know what had changed at the time, but it’s obvious now.”

Grayson’s jaw hardened. “He made her keep his secret?” Grayson didn’t say his father’s name. He wouldn’t inflict the phrase your husband on the woman across from him. But what his words lacked in specificity his tone made up for.

“I doubt Sheff had to make Savannah do anything.” Acacia’s voice was almost too calm. “From what I understand, my parents knew for much longer. Since before…” Her hand trembled slightly on the table. “Since before you were born. I don’t know the details, but I suspect my mother had a word with Sheff. I can just hear her telling him that affairs were one thing, but for goodness’ sake, be discreet, the way my father was.”

Getting your affair partner pregnant was not discreet, especially when her last name was Hawthorne.

“The money was theirs, you know.” Acacia went quiet. The silence was heavy. “All of this, the seed funding for all of Sheff’s ventures…” She swallowed. “If my mother confronted Sheff, it’s likely she issued some very pointed threats.”

Grayson processed that. “He gave me the impression that he was a self-made man.”

“I was unaware that the two of you had met.” Acacia looked down again.

Grayson felt a stab of sympathy but knew he had to preempt any questions she might ask about that meeting. “My grandfather had just passed away.…”

“Yes. Of course.” Acacia blinked rapidly. “I’m very sorry.”

She’s trying not to cry. “Not as sorry as I am,” Grayson told her. His father’s wife wasn’t what he’d expected. She hadn’t lashed out at him once. There was something so… maternal about her.

“You’re welcome here, Grayson.” Acacia’s voice was hoarse, but she raised her head, setting her jaw. “For as long as you want.”

Grayson couldn’t afford to let that mean much. “I suspect Savannah would disagree.”

“Savannah lived to make Sheff proud,” Acacia said softly. “She was a colicky baby, quiet and serious as a toddler. And Gigi was… not.” Grayson suspected that was an understatement. “I used to worry that Savannah would get lost. Her sister looked—looks—quite a bit like my husband’s late nephew.”

Colin, Grayson thought. The reason your husband was out for vengeance.

“Between the resemblance and Gigi being such a cheerful little thing, she had Sheff wrapped around her finger from day one. Savannah always seemed keenly aware of that, even as a baby. But she found her way. She shot her first basket when she was five and never looked back.”

Grayson remembered something, then. “Colin played basketball.” After his death, Sheffield Grayson had founded a nonprofit sports charity in his nephew’s honor.

“So did Sheff, in college. He drove Colin so hard, had such hopes for him.…”

And then Colin died. Because of the Hawthorne family. “Savannah let him recapture some of that,” Grayson inferred. It was the logical conclusion, and he was nothing if not logical.

“As much as any daughter could.” Acacia drew in another breath. “Savannah is going to judge me for staying with her father once I knew. To her, that will seem weak.” She brought her gaze back to Grayson’s. “But I assure you, I am not.”

No. You are not. “Gigi told me that you were recently visited by gentlemen in suits.”

To Acacia, that would seem like it had come out of nowhere, but that was the point. Less time for her to cover, less opportunity to manage her reaction.

“Gigi is mistaken.”

“If you need anything…,” Grayson said.

Gigi skidded into the kitchen. “I texted Duncan from Savannah’s phone. Party’s on for tomorrow night! In the meantime, who’s ready for step negative one?”

“Step negative one?” Grayson repeated.

“Two steps before step one,” Acacia clarified, and she met Grayson’s eyes with a clear, silent message: Their heart-to-heart was over.

“Gigi got herself arrested.” Savannah didn’t come all the way into the kitchen as she let that bomb drop. Keeping her distance from her mother—and me.

“Et tu, Brute?” Gigi said to her twin, then she turned to Grayson, her eyes narrowing as she realized where Savannah must have gotten her information. “And et tu, Brute?” she repeated, then cocked her head to the side. “What’s the plural of Brute?”

“It’s a name,” Grayson told her. “Not typically pluralized.”

“Fascinating!” Gigi declared. “Much more interesting than anything that may or may not have resulted in my calling the family lawyer—who, by the way, left me in jail overnight and most of the next day!”

Acacia held up a hand. “Back up. Jail?”

“It’s taken care of,” Grayson cut in.

Acacia gave him a look: part admonition, part warning, motherly. But she let the interruption slide. “Well, then. I’ll let the three of you get to step negative one. Savannah?” Acacia met her daughter’s eyes. “Be nice.”





CHAPTER 21