Chapter 31

Chapter Thirty-One

B ritt paused on the threshold of her father's room, focusing on the man propped up in bed. He'd made her life a living hell but he didn't deserve this. No one deserved to suffer with their mind and body wasting away, sapped of dignity, no matter what their sins.

She'd rushed here out of…what? Obligation? Caring? It certainly wasn't love. He'd wiped any semblance of that emotion the first time he raised his hand to her.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the room. Whatever sense of familial duty had made her come, she didn't want to stay long. If he hadn't wanted to broach the gap between them a few weeks earlier, no way things would've changed now. If anything, being incapacitated would sour his mood further and she had no intention of bearing the brunt of his temper.

Never again.

'Dad?'

She tiptoed to the bed and reached out to touch his arm before letting it fall to her side when he turned his head slightly, saw her, then rolled towards the wall.

'Go away. Leave me to die in peace.'

The words came out on a croak rather than his usual grunt, shout, or bark, and for a second a sliver of remorse prompted her to touch him on the shoulder.

He stiffened, allowing her fingertips to linger before shrugging them off.

'You're not dying, Dad. The doctor said you've had another minor stroke with no residual effects.'

He made a sudden move, rolling towards her, and she hated that instinct made her take a step back.

When was the last time she wasn't afraid of this man, afraid of what he was capable of?

The last time they'd had a normal conversation without his latent temper threatening to explode, she'd been sixteen years old and he'd been teasing her about taking French as an elective at school. It had been the day before her mother had left and the memory stood out as a particularly poignant one as the last time she'd ever connected with him, the last time she'd ever felt safe in his presence.

'What do those old fools know? Pumping me full of heart tablets and blood thinners and goodness knows what. Quacks, the lot of them.'

She hadn't come here to argue, hadn't come to listen to his moaning. From what the doc said, Darby wouldn't die any time soon and she could leave him to harass the highly paid staff here and walk away, safe in the knowledge she'd done the right thing no matter how much it stung that he didn't give a damn.

'You'll be fine—'

'What are you doing here anyway? Had a fight with that no-good husband of yours?'

His malice-filled eyes narrowed, a nasty grimace twisting his lips. He lifted a trembling arm to jab a finger in her direction before letting it fall uselessly on the bed and she determinedly quashed a surge of pity.

'Nick and I are happy. We—'

'Happy? More fool you. The only reason that lousy son of a gun married you was for revenge.' He snickered. ‘He even came around here earlier to gloat.'

Unease gnawed at her, insidious and malignant. She had no intention of listening to the hateful ramblings of a vile old man hell-bent on poisoning everyone around him with his vitriol, but something in her father's smug grin made her skin crawl with apprehension.

‘That gutter rat Mancini hates my guts, always has, ever since we made our little bargain.'

She clamped her jaw shut, determined not to ask what he meant, but her curiosity must've shown, because he struggled into a half-sitting position, his expression positively gloating.

'Bet he didn't tell you about our pact.' Her father's lips peeled back from his teeth in a terrifying grin that sent a chill through her. ‘Back in the old days, I told him if he stopped sniffing around you I'd let his stupid old man keep that pathetic excuse for a sugar cane plantation.'

A faint buzzing filled Britt's head and she took several quick breaths, desperate for air, desperate for anything to wipe the last few moments.

'How does it feel, to come in last in a two-horse race?' Darby's bitter laugh raised her hackles and she backed towards the door, shocked she'd once loved this man, horrified at what he'd become.

‘So you see, my stupid deluded daughter, the only reason you're hitched to that farm boy is revenge, pure and simple.' He pumped the air with a fist in a pathetic victory sign. ‘Mancini must be real happy with your marriage .'

He spat the last word and she turned and bolted, clutching a stomach that roiled with the sickening truth.

Nick didn't love her.

Their marriage wasn't real.

This had all been a sick, twisted game to him.

She ran down the corridor, the horrifying truth bringing blinding tears to her eyes. As she stumbled into the fresh air and doubled over with the pain of her husband's deception, she silently vowed she'd never be fooled by Nick Mancini ever again.