Chapter 22
REBECCA’S POV
35 vouchers
As I sat at the dinner table, slowly cutting into my steak, the tension in the air was thick… like I could slice through it with the very knife in my hand.
“So, Becca, your mother told me your birthday is next weekend,” Devon said as he wolfed down his meal like he hadn’t eaten in days.
I took a sip of my alcohol–free wine to help wash down the dry bite of steak before I answered. “Yes, it is.”
Drew, seated across from me, bit into an asparagus spear. His eyes met mine with a softness that made my heart flutter. “What day exactly?” he asked.
“Umm, the 24th,” I replied, and just like that, both he and Devon stiffened slightly.
“That’s my mother’s birthday too,” Drew admitted, his voice low and shaky.
“Really?” I asked, my brows raised.
He nodded, but something unreadable passed across his face.
“So, Becca, do you have any plans?” Devon asked as he wiped his mouth with his napkin.
“I was thinking about staying in and binge–watching my favorite series, Pride & Prejudice,” I said with a little shrug.
“Well, there will be a ball held at the castle that night. Since it’s your birthday, I’ll slip in an hour of celebration just for you,” he said with an uncharacteristically generous tone.
“But Devon, I thought you said we weren’t invited,” Mom interjected, her brows furrowed.
“You both can come for an hour… Say between 11 and midnight.”
“Like Cinderella?” I chuckled, amused at the dramatic time window. I caught a ghost of a smirk tug at Devon’s lips.
“Drew can be Becca’s chaperone for that time, if he won’t mind.”
“It would be my pleasure,” Drew responded without hesitation.
“Really? I thought I would have to go into a full debate with you over this,” Devon said with a small laugh. “I’m glad to see how warmed up you’re getting toward your sister.”
“He’s not my brother,” I stated.
“She’s not my sister,” Drew said at the exact same time.
We both looked at each other, silently acknowledging that neither of us was going to let that slide.
13:12 Thu, Sep 4
Chapter 22
:
58
35 vouchers
I used my napkin to dab at my lips, secretly hoping it would wipe away the blush that crept up my cheeks.
“Here’s to a successful dinner,” Devon said, raising his wine glass and clinking it next to Mom’s. “To family.”
Drew raised his glass and touched it to mine.
“To family,” we both said in unison.
The room fell into silence after that. If someone had walked in, they would’ve thought we were the perfectly sculpted family from some Hallmark movie.
When Devon was finished eating, he excused himself to go prepare for his meeting.
“Hilary, I need you by my side in twenty minutes. So finish your wine and freshen up. Drew, you come with me now. I need to go over some things with you,” he said with authority. “Becca, I’ll see you in an hour.” He gave me a nod.
“Okay.”
He kissed Mom’s lips before exiting the room, like everything was normal.
“I guess I should go too,” Drew said with a sigh as he pushed out his chair. “Luna,” he bowed respectfully toward my mother, and she returned the gesture with a slight nod of her head.
Weird.
Then Drew turned to me. “Ah, I guess I’ll see you in there soon,” he said, his grin making me warm.
“Yeah,” I giggled, brushing a piece of hair behind my ear.
He walked off, still smiling.
“Break a leg,” I called after him.
He paused. He didn’t look back, but I saw his shoulders shake with silent laughter before he walked off again.
Break a leg?
What was I thinking?
I facepalmed myself, immediately regretting it.
When I opened my eyes, my mom was staring at me like she had just witnessed me commit murder.
“Mom, are you okay? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You’re falling in love with him!” she exclaimed, clutching her hand to her mouth in shock.
“What?… No,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “That’s ridiculous,” I said, sipping my juice to hide my flustered expression.
13:12 Thu, Sep 4
Chapter 22
58
35 vouchers.
Mom sprang from her chair and rushed to my side, stooping next to me. She took my hand that rested in my lap.
“Becca, these people here are dangerous. I don’t want you getting hurt,” she whispered. “You can’t love Drew. He’s not right for you.”
I yanked my hand away from her. “Mom, you’ve had too much wine. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“But I do, Becca. Stay away from Drew. Don’t let him pull you into his world.”
I looked at her, confused. “You think he’ll beat me the way Devon beats you?” I asked quietly, watching her expression soften.
“That… and worse,” she sighed. “The way you looked at Drew tonight reminded me of how I used to look at your father.”
“My father?” I gasped. In the almost seventeen years of life, my mom had never ever mentioned him.
“Yes. Your father,” she breathed out, as if the words physically hurt. “I know you and your grandmother thought I had some one–night stand, but it wasn’t like that. Your father and I were in love. Deeply. You see, your grandmother was strict. I wasn’t allowed to go anywhere or have any friends. So I ran away when I was
sixteen.”
“Mom, I didn’t know any of this.”
“I know, honey,” she nodded. “I met a group of girls around my age who shared an apartment. They saw how lost I was and decided to help me out. They gave me a bed and even helped me get a job as a waitress at a diner. I guess having blonde hair and blue eyes was rare around that part, because the men were… generous with tips and they treated me with respect.”
She chuckled lightly before continuing. “One night, during a storm, I met your father. He walked in dressed like a mob boss. Dark hair, beautiful green eyes like yours. He sat in my section and ordered blueberry pancakes.
“My favorites,” I smiled. “Then what happened next?”
“I was nervous. So nervous that I accidentally spilled hot coffee on his leg.”
“Oh my God,” I laughed.
“He didn’t even flinch. He just looked up at me, his eyes were so soft and caring. But then he sniffed the air and grabbed my arm, and said, ‘You’re mine.”
I stared at her, stunned.
“I know I was young, but I felt something powerful. Like fate, Like magic. I have never felt anything like that
before.”
“Not even with Devon?”
13:12 Thu, Sep 4
Chapter 22
58
35 vouchers
“Not even with Devon,” she said with certainty. “Your father and I had a three–month affair. He was only two years older, but the love… the intimacy… I can’t even describe it. He made love to me like he invented sex.” she cleared her throat and I giggled some more.
“Then I met his parents.” She looked away, her face pained.
I squeezed her fingers as an encouragement to go on.
“His mother spat on me and called me scum. He and his father fought physically. It was horrible. That night, your father drove me back to the apartment and didn’t say much. He just looked at me and said, ‘I, Randolph Bartholomew Pureblood, reject you, Hilary Rosemary Moore, as my mate.“”
My eyes widened.
“Those words… they hurt. Like a curse. I was in so much pain, I couldn’t speak. He told me to say I accepted his rejection, but I just… couldn’t. He carried me to the apartment door in his arms. Toni, one of the girls, opened the door when he knocked. She hissed at him.”
“What? Like actually hissed?”
“Yes,” Mom said, almost laughing at the memory. “She said, ‘Your kind is not welcome here, mutt.‘ And when he left, I collapsed. I was sick for days. I couldn’t eat. Couldn’t sleep. Then I realized… I missed my period.”
“You found out you were pregnant?”
She nodded. “I took a test and it was positive. I didn’t want to raise a child alone, so I went back to my mother.”
I didn’t realize tears had been falling until Mom reached up and wiped my cheeks.
“Mom, I’m so sorry this happened to you,” I cried, hugging her tightly.
“I know, honey. But look at me now. I’m a survivor and so are you. That’s why I want more for you. I want you to go to college, travel the world, and fall in love with someone who will cherish you.”
“I will,” I promised, nodding against her shoulder.
She smiled, wiped her own tears away and said, “Good. Now come, let’s go freshen up for the meeting.”
AD
Comment
Send gift

Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.