“I was seventeen when Simon Lancaster found me and told me the truth.” Dillon releases me, stepping back, dragging a hand through his hair. “He said I murdered my mother and I was lucky he’d given me up for adoption because he couldn’t bear to look at me and he’d most likely have killed me if he’d taken me home.”
I raise a shaky hand to my mouth. How could any man say that to his son? Simon Lancaster was a monster, and I’m fucking glad he’s dead. I know this must have gone down around the same time Ash tried to kill herself, and I can only imagine the pain Dillon was in. Irrespective of our present situation, I would never wish that on him. My heart aches for him, and my body longs to comfort him, like I would have done in the past.
But this isn’t the past.
And it’s obvious Dillon isn’t the same Dillon.
He’s twisted with anger and rage, his judgment is clouded by the things he mistakenly believes, and that makes him wildly unpredictable. Especially when he seems to be channeling most of that rage unfairly in Reeve’s direction.
I can’t let him destroy my husband. Whatever agenda he has, I know he’s focused on hurting Reeve and I’m not letting him do that. Right now, my priorities lie with my husband and my son. Protecting them from pain is my focus. “Why did Simon contact you?” I ask.
Dillon rubs the back of his neck as pain flares in his eyes. “He offered me one million dollars to sign an NDA so the world would never find out I was Reeve Lancaster’s secret twin.”
I stare numbly at him, sure my ears must be deceiving me. “Why?”
“He was protecting the son he loved!” he spits, and I’m dumbfounded again. “He said Reeve was going to be a massive star and he couldn’t have skeletons in his closet. He wanted to make sure I would never come forward. That I would never seek out Reeve. That I would slink away in the shadows and pretend like I was invisible.”
“Jesus, Dillon. That is heartbreaking. But I’m telling you now, Simon wasn’t protecting Reeve. He was protecting himself. He knew he would’ve been outed as a monster if the truth was revealed. I hated Simon when he was alive for what he did to Reeve, but I absolutely despise him in death.”
“For what he did to Reeve?!” Dillon shoves his angry face in mine, and I protectively cradle my stomach, reeling from the poison spewing from Dillon’s mouth.
It’s as if I never knew him at all.
What happened to the troubled broken boy who opened his heart and showed me the sexy sweet soul hidden underneath? I see none of that boy in the man who stands before me now, radiating anger like it’s an entitlement. “Reeve had everything! He grew up wealthy in L.A. with every opportunity handed to him on a silver platter.”
“No, Dillon. You’ve got it backward.” My eyes plead with him to see reason. To see the truth that is so blatantly obvious to me. “You are the one who was truly wealthy. You have a loving family who adores you. You cannot place a value on that.”
“I refused to sign the NDA at first,” he says, staring absently at the wall, as if I haven’t spoken at all. “Instead, I changed my appearance because I wanted to look nothing like that arrogant selfish wanker, and then I thought of different ways I could make both of them pay. I raged for years, plotting how I could make it happen, and then you landed in my lap.” His lips curl up at the corners as he stares me in the face with cold, cruel eyes.
All the blood leeches from my body. He laughs as I stare at him with a fresh wave of horror. Pain slices across my chest, cutting soul-deep.
“It was the perfect plan of revenge. Reeve had taken everything from me. Now it was time to take something from him. Something so precious he would never recover.” He brushes his fingers across my cheeks as silent tears pour down my face. “Yes, Hollywood. I purposely set out to steal your heart, and you fell for it hook, line, and sinker. It was almost too easy to make you fall in love with me. My greatest triumph was when you told me you loved me in front of everyone. I guess acting must run in my blood.” His dry chuckle is like a dagger straight through the heart.
“Aw, don’t cry, Vivien Grace.” He smooths my tears with his thumb, smirking, and I slap his hands away. “It didn’t quite go according to my plan. You were supposed to return to him broken and used up. You weren’t supposed to get a happy ever after, but this is even better.”
“Don’t do it,” I croak. “Whatever it is you’re planning, don’t do it. It won’t make you feel better.”