“What?” I blurt, momentarily blindsided until I realize he’s just fucking with my head. “Reeve loves me, and he loves our family. He wouldn’t do that.”
“But he did before, Hollywood, or do you have a selective memory?” He winds his hand around the nape of my neck, putting his face all up in mine. “You know what they say, once a cheater always a cheater.”
I shake my head, glaring at him. “Not Reeve. He made mistakes, but he made up for it, and we got past it. He’s loyal to me, and I know you’re just messing with my head.” I shove at his shoulders. “Take your hands off me.”
“No.” He twists my hair, yanking it around his fist and tilting my head up. “Did you conceal Easton’s real birthday to hide him from me?” he demands.
“No,” I truthfully reply. “I gave birth to him at home, and I didn’t venture outside for the first few weeks, because I wanted to shield him from the media. Reeve and I weren’t officially together, and I’d hidden my pregnancy, so—”
“So I wouldn’t find out,” he says, cutting across me.
I could lie, but what’s the point? I know where this is leading. A shuddering breath flees my lips. “Yes. I wasn’t sure who the father was, and I wanted to wait until I had the paternity results before saying anything to Reeve or you.”
“Would you have told me if he was mine?”
I nod. “Yes. That was my plan.”
His nostrils flare as he glares at me. “Liar!”
“I’m telling the truth! You can ask Audrey.”
He rubs his thumb along my mouth, and I jolt as a rush of sensations skates over my skin. I have been trying to deny the hum of electricity crackling in the air, because I’m trying to deny the existence of our connection, but one little touch from him ignites a flame inside me I can’t extinguish. “That’s why you cut Ash off.”
“I didn’t want to, but I didn’t want to lie to her either. I knew if she found out I was pregnant she’d ask me if it was yours. If I told her, she would tell you.” I hang my head, unable to look at the disgust on his face. “I’m ashamed I did that to Ash. I love her like a sister, but I didn’t see I had any other option. I contacted her after Easton was born, after the paternity test confirmed Reeve was the father”—I whisper that last part because we both know that is no longer proven—“but she didn’t take my calls, and then they started bouncing back, and I knew she’d blocked me.”
“I’m pretty sure that was the day we discovered you’d gotten married and had a baby without telling her or me,” he grits out. “Look at me,” he snaps, and I swing my eyes back around to his. “I couldn’t give two shits about your lying ass, but I do care to know if that little boy is mine.”
“Why?”
“Because he could be my son!” he yells.
“Keep your fucking voice down!” I hiss. “He could still be Reeve’s.”
“Or he could be mine. That test you got proves nothing because our DNA is the same. We need a specialized test with samples from both of us to prove paternity conclusively, and I want that test taken ASAP.”
My chest heaves. “How do I explain this to Reeve?” I cry.
“Not my fucking problem,” he snaps.
“This isn’t just my problem. It’s yours too! He’s your brother!”
“He’s not my brother,” he growls. “Shane, Ciarán, and Ronan are my brothers. Reeve is just the selfish prick I shared a womb with.”
I gasp at the venom in his tone and the hatred on his face. Tears leak out of my eyes, and my heart hurts for my husband. Obviously, everything Dillon said back there was bullshit. “How can you say that?” I thump his chest. “It’s not Reeve’s fault Simon Lancaster was a twisted fuck who blamed both his sons for what happened to their mother! Reeve didn’t know about you until two weeks ago! He grew up with a father who couldn’t give a shit about him, and if it wasn’t for my family, he’d have been all alone.”
“Save your bleeding-heart crap for someone who gives a shit. FYI. That’s not me.” He grips my chin, and I flinch at the look of loathing in his eyes. “That prick has taken everything from me, and I think I’m owed a little payback, don’t you?”
Certain things slot into place in my head. “You knew! You’ve known the truth for years.” My stomach lurches wildly, and I dry heave as the reality of the situation dawns on me in full technicolor horror.