Chapter 35

35

Reed

M y brothers and I are working a triple front.

Children should not be made to pay for their parents' sins, yet that is precisely what happened to Callie and Dakota. As much as I want to rip Callie's head off for everything that she's done, I can't really call her evil. Spoiled, sure. Egocentric, absolutely. But it all stems from Katherine Monroe and Callie's mother, both so bitter and self-absorbed in their own pain that they forgot how to be an actual grandmother and mother to Callie.

"Tell me, Dolores, when did you enter the Monroe family's employ?" I ask, making sure the recording app on my phone is turned on. I got her consent for it, though it took me a while to convince the woman to break her non-disclosure agreement with Katherine Monroe. It's going to take me a lot of cash to make sure her ass is legally covered against Callie, too, if needed. "Callie was, what, a couple of years old?"

"Three, to be specific," Dolores replies, adding more sugar to her coffee.

We're seated by the window of a quaint diner just outside Chappaqua. I followed Callie back here and started digging around. It's quickly becoming obvious that entire aspects of Michael Monroe's history were deliberately omitted from the public eye.

Michael, Callie and Dakota's father, didn't just up and leave like the irresponsible prick that Katherine portrayed him to be. I believe Dolores can give me the missing pieces to the puzzle. I need them before I go after Callie.

"And what exactly did you find when you started working for them?" I ask.

"A complete mess is what I found," she says with a heavy sigh. "Callie's mother had trouble with liquor. She was a daytime drinker, while Mrs. Monroe was busy with her charities and competition roses. Callie was mostly on her own, wondering where her daddy went. I felt so sorry for the poor girl."

"What happened, exactly? I understand you know the whole story."

She gives me a hard look. "You'd better be serious about that lawyer."

"I am," I reply with a reassuring smile. "You know enough about me and my brothers, about our business and reputation. We follow through with our promises."

"That is true, which is why I'm talking to you."

"And I shall be forever grateful," I say.

Dolores takes a deep breath. "Michael Monroe was a good man but a free-spirited kind of guy. He never really wanted to marry, certainly not Callie's mother. He didn't really want kids, either. He was a constant disappointment to Katherine because of that. The man wanted to work in education, he wanted to travel the world, he wanted to have an impact on public policy. He was the furthest thing from a Monroe that you would expect."

"Is that why he left?"

Dolores nods her head. "Katherine kept sabotaging every project he got involved with. A community center was shut down because she didn't want him working there. An orphanage was torn down because Katherine got foreign investors involved for the same reason. Innocent kids and people at risk suffered across the entire district because that old hag wanted her son to don a suit and escort her to charity galas. He could only take so much, and he'd finally had enough. At home, he had a wife who was drunk more often than not. They hired a nanny to be with Callie all the time.

"Michael wanted to take Callie and leave. He did try that once, but Katherine got the local police involved. It almost got him thrown in jail. She ruined any chance he had at social work in the state of New York. At every damn turn, Michael resisted his mother's whims, and at every damn turn, she chipped away at him. Bit by bit."

I try to imagine what it must've been like for him. I shudder to think what might've happened if our own mother had thrown wrenches at our wheels the way Katherine did with Michael.

"Soon enough, it became clear he was at his breaking point. Michael was depressed," Dolores says. "I was working at his favorite diner, and he used to come in every morning for a cup of coffee. He was miserable. I could see the life and the joy draining out of him each day, a little at a time. Honestly, when I heard that he'd skipped town, I was happy for him. He deserved better."

"It must've been a difficult decision," I say. "Leaving his daughter behind like that."

"Not a day went by that he didn't regret it."

"From what I was told, he didn't stay in touch," I reply.

Dolores raises an eyebrow, a bitter smile testing her lips. "You were lied to. Everyone was. Michael did stay in touch. Or tried, anyway. Every week, he'd send Callie a letter. I picked one up from the mailbox one time and tried to give it to her, but her mother intercepted it. From that point on, she intercepted everything. She didn't want Callie to think that her father actually cared about her. I couldn't do much about it because I needed that job. I needed the money. Their personal issues were theirs, not mine."

"I completely understand."

"Callie grew up thinking that Michael left and forgot about her," she says. "But I managed to steal some of those letters. I kept them."

"Letters from Michael?"

"Yes."

"Addressed to Callie."

"Yes." She takes a stack out of her purse. I count six envelopes neatly tied with twine. I can tell from the yellow tint of the paper that this is old mail, decades old. She hands them over to me, and I take a minute to examine each letter. "I was saving them for Callie, but I never got around to giving them to her. As she grew older, she became more and more insufferable. She did a lot of nasty stuff to me, to my children, my grandchildren. Working for the Monroes damn near destroyed my family."

She goes on to tell me about the numerous instances of bullying and sabotage. Callie's mother couldn't stand to see her daughter falling behind children from lesser families, and Dolores's grandkids were particularly gifted.

"I tried working for other families, but none of them kept me. As soon as Katherine heard that I'd started somewhere else, she'd get on the phone and make sure I was let go before the week's end."

"Why, though? What did Katherine have against you?"

"I kept pressuring her to tell Callie the truth. Hell, I tried to tell Callie the truth once, but the girl wouldn't believe me. She couldn't believe that her own mother and grandmother would manipulate her into thinking that Michael had simply stopped caring about her even after news of his death reached Chappaqua. For what it's worth, I tried to set the record straight, but the Monroes were all too comfortable demonizing the man for choosing freedom and happiness."

As I read through the letters, I recognized the words of a man who loved his daughter deeply. In one of them, he mentions Dakota, telling Callie about her and saying that one day, he hoped the two might actually meet. At the time, he was working toward a reconciliation of sorts, but Katherine kept him away.

"The man tried," I conclude, agreeing with Dolores. "I suppose Katherine and those loyal to her went to great lengths to stop him from ever reaching out to Callie directly."

"He tried, though. I believe he tried until the day he died," she says. "But you can't really fight against the Monroe money and influence. Let's not forget that when Michael left, he was penniless. Katherine cut him off completely."

I nod, remembering parts of Dakota's story. "Right. He came to San Francisco and started anew. He didn't do bad for himself—"

"But he didn't have the Monroe power behind him, either."

"I think he deliberately kept a low profile."

Dolores shrugs. "Either way, it doesn't matter anymore. Callie grew up to be a frustrated and bitter woman, much like her grandmother and her mother. There was no reasoning with her; she was just as spiteful. All those years I spent by her side, helping those witches raise her, it counted for nothing in the end."

"I dare to disagree, Dolores. It's not too late for Callie to learn the truth. It might not necessarily change her as a person, but it might stop her from hurting other people simply because she was wounded by the absence of her father's truth," I reply.

"Do what you want with what I gave you," the woman says. "I'm at peace with myself. It's Callie's problem; it's the Monroes' problem. My family and I have suffered enough because of them."

Sliding an envelope full of cash across the table, I bid her farewell, then settle the bill and head out, eager to speak to my brothers about everything I've just learned.

Soon enough, we will find our way back to Dakota. Maybe it won't be the same as it used to be, maybe it will be better. One thing it's not going to be is yet another Monroe family clusterfuck. There have been enough of those to last a few generations, all because Katherine was too proud and pigheaded to allow her son to be his truest and happiest self.

Armed with all this new information, I confer with Archer and Maddox over the phone. It's killing us to be away from Dakota at this difficult time, but what we're doing should fix the dent that Callie and Keith caused in our relationship and avert at least part of the disaster that's headed toward Dakota.

After a few more rounds with elderly locals in two of Chappaqua's established pubs, I get a clearer picture of who Michael was, what he was like, and what he had to deal with as a man, a father, and a Monroe. Everyone said the same thing, albeit in a hushed tone, since the Monroe companies still control a good chunk of the entire state's financial and industrial sector. Katherine was a stone-cold bitch who wanted to keep everybody in line and under her rule.

Anybody who stepped out of line got punished for it. Blood ties or not, the consequences were the same. Ultimately, all it got her was a miserable, lonely death, two granddaughters at odds with each other, and a sea of resentment left behind. It's a lesson for my brothers and me to learn from, as well as a reminder that money and power do not make the man.

"Reed Faulkner," I tell the hostess as I walk into the Golden Pearl, a Michelin-starred restaurant overlooking the River Walk Park in Sleepy Hollow. There's a charity dinner happening here tonight, hosted by the Monroe Foundation.

"Ah, yes, welcome, Mr. Faulkner," the hostess replies with a sparkling smile, then has one of the waiters escort me to my table.

It's a fancy affair, but with my tux and fresh fade, I blend right in. I may not come from New York money, but I carry myself with equal strength and confidence as I walk among the uppity crowd that's filling the restaurant tonight.

I'm on a mission.

"I'll be right back with your champagne, Mr. Faulkner," the waiter says as soon as I take my seat. "We're serving a particularly fine vintage tonight."

"Thank you," I tell him as I scan the room.

I see plenty of New York's elite ready to show off how much disposable income they have.

I spot Callie giggling in the eastern corner with the district attorney's preppy son. He seems to be head over heels for her, and she looks ravishing in a red Armani dress, but all I feel is rage at the sight of her. Rage will not serve me well tonight, though, so I wait for my champagne before I approach her.

Two glasses later, I'm up and moving around, shaking hands and briefly diving into various conversations across the dining hall. I am able to blend in and out of each group with ease. I'm still pissed at how Callie played me at the wedding, and I am dying to repay the favor.

"So, now that your grandmother is gone, will there be any objections to the two of us getting engaged?" I hear the DA's son ask Callie.

She smiles seductively and slowly leans into him. "No, babe. I'm all yours, technically speaking." She pauses and rolls her eyes. "The family lawyer will bitch and moan about a prenup since I'm coming into my inheritance, but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

"You know I have no issue there. My trust fund is twice that," the guy says with a confident grin. Silver-spoon-fed little twerp. I guess Callie is grooming him for his money, just in case. Her grandmother taught her well, but she is still a greedy shrew, which makes what I'm about to do all the more pleasurable.

Like a dashing bastard, I slide in between them and immediately wrap an arm around Callie's shoulders. "Here you are, babe," I say, smiling and visibly enamored. "I've been looking for you everywhere."

"Excuse me, who the hell are you?" The DA's son is instantly inflamed.

Callie, on the other hand, is frozen and speechless, unable to look away from me. She can tell precisely how much shit has just hit the fan, and she knows she can't duck. It's about to get all over her as I continue to play my part.

"Who the hell am I?" I gasp. "Who the hell are you?"

"Kyle Langford."

"And that's supposed to mean something to me?"

"Reed," Callie tries to stop me, but I give her shoulder a tight enough squeeze to make her wince and swallow her words.

Kyle takes a step forward, but I'm taller, bigger, meaner, and nowhere near easily intimidated. "I'm Callie's fiancé," he says, straightening his back to make himself look at least a little bit taller.

"Huh. Now, I don't know how that's even possible since Callie and I have been engaged for what, two months? Isn't that right, baby?" I look down at her then plant a kiss on her cheek. It makes me want to puke, but she played me like a fucking fiddle, so I will absolutely pluck her strings, one note at a time. "Gosh, it's funny how time flies when you're in love." I pause and gasp, giving Kyle a surprised grin. "Oh, shit. Kyle Langford. Now I remember the name. Callie mentioned you. The DA's boy. The stooge."

"The what now?" He sounds confused. Insulted, even. I can't blame him.

"Reed, stop it," Callie tries again.

I laugh and kiss her cheek once more. "Don't be silly, honey. You are getting your grandma's money, after all. There is no point in stringing this poor sucker along anymore."

"Who the fuck are you?" Kyle asks, glowering at me.

"Reed Faulkner. One-third of Faulkner Enterprises. And Callie's fiancé," I reply with a dry smile. "I met Callie when she was still working you over, thinking she wasn't going to get her eighty million. Her sister was in line for that, but Callie made sure that didn't happen. Didn't you, babe? You devious little thing, you."

Kyle is getting more and more confused. "Callie, what's going on here?"

"Excuse us for just a minute, Kyle," she says, then tries to pull me away from him.

"Oh, she didn't tell you?" I chuckle, speaking loudly enough for others to hear. "I was supposed to marry her sister, but then Callie drugged me and rode me like a mare in heat right on our wedding day. We've been in love ever since."

"Callie!" Kyle gasps.

I hear murmurs rising all around us. Callie's cheeks are turning redder than her hair, redder than her dress, as she gives me a desperate look. "Please, stop," she mumbles.

"But it's the truth. You spread your legs for eighty million bucks. It's why I fell in love with you." I smile at Kyle once more. "If I overheard you correctly, you were just telling Callie that your trust fund is twice as much. Take it as a compliment. She was ready to bone you, too, for it."

"Reed, I beg you," Callie tries again.

Kyle shakes his head in dismay, having nothing but contempt for her. "I don't know what to say."

"How about, ‘Enjoy tonight's lobster dinner?'" I laugh. "Don't worry, kid. You'll find another gold digger to show off to Daddy. This one's taken."

Someone laughs. Callie tears up. Kyle scoffs and glides away from a most uncomfortable conversation. And I am tremendously satisfied by the conclusion. I see Callie's hand come up out of the corner of my eye, and I stop it before she slaps me across the face. I give her wrist a painful squeeze until tears stream down her cheeks before pulling her away from the swelling crowd and into a narrow, dark walkway connecting the dining hall to the restrooms.

"Did you really think there wouldn't be consequences for what you did to Dakota and to me?" I ask, keeping my tone low and cold.

"How fucking dare you? How the hell am I going to sort things out with Kyle?" she screeches, on the verge of hysteria.

"Sort what out? There's no happy ending for you, Callie. It's why I'm here. To make sure you understand and remember that actions have consequences."

"Fuck you, Reed."

I give her a hard, merciless look. "The only one who's fucked around here is you. And you were fucked long before you ruined my wedding." I push the stack of Michael's letters against her chest. "Here. Proof that you've been lied to. Your whole life."

"What are you talking about?"

Callie softens upon seeing her father's name scrawled across the back of each envelope. It's the moment I need to drive my sword right through her soul. "Your mother and your grandmother lied to you. Your father never wanted to leave you the way he did. He just didn't have any other choice. He tried to stay in touch with you, but Katherine and your mother intercepted his letters. She cut off every attempt he ever made to reach out to you. She went as far as to blacklist him at every venue and in every place where she knew you'd be. It was methodical and deliberate, and it was meant to manipulate you."

I say the words as she opens one letter with trembling fingers and briefly scans her father's handwritten words. "Where did you get this?" she whispers.

"Dolores. Remember her? The hired help you and your precious grandmother fucked over? She saved some of the letters before Katherine could burn them. She thought you deserved to know the truth despite how you treated her and her family."

The look of devastation on Callie's face tells me I hit the bull's-eye.

"I don't understand."

"Of course, you don't understand," I say, unsympathetic and unyielding. I can't find one shred of pity for this woman; I can only hope that the truth will hurt her deeply enough to awaken her so that she stops hurting other innocent people. "You never did because you were blinded as a child. Read the letters, Callie, so you can realize precisely how your own family manipulated you, how Katherine and your mother fooled you into hating a girl who never did anything to you.

"Dakota didn't deserve any of the poison you flung at her. Unexpectedly, your grandmother had a change of heart toward the end of her life. She just couldn't bring herself to implement it completely. All you had to do was be a decent human being and let Dakota get her inheritance like Katherine ultimately intended. But you couldn't do that because you wanted your sister to be as miserable as you."

"It's not—"

"It is," I cut her off. "That's what this was about. Clearly, you were bagging that rich douche, Kyle, anyway. It wasn't about the eighty million bucks at all. You simply didn't want your sister to be happy because you were never happy. And you never will be until you understand precisely the shitty family that you sprung from. Your father knew better. It's why he left. He tried to take you with him, but Katherine wouldn't let him. And here we are, years later, family still hurting family. I hope you can live with yourself, Callie. Because no man in his right mind ever would."

I leave her in the dark hallway, on the verge of tears. She is so stunned by the letters, by their mere existence, that she lacks the strength to come after me, to contradict me, to fight me in any way.

Nobody hurts my woman and gets away with it.