Chapter 4 - The Confrontation
Sloan closed her eyes tightly, turning her head away from him. A single, heavy tear tracked down her pale cheek, soaking into the white hospital pillow.
"Iris, sweetie," Sloan whispered to her daughter, forcing her voice to stay steady. "Go sit back on the sofa with Hazel, okay? Mommy needs to talk to... to Mr. Drake for a minute."
Iris looked between her mother and the intimidating billionaire standing over them. She narrowed her eyes slightly at Griffin, showing that fierce, protective instinct that Sloan had cultivated in both of them. "Don't yell at her," Iris warned Griffin plainly. "She's sick."
A faint, almost imperceptible softening touched Griffin’s hard mouth. "I won't yell at her, Iris. I promise."
Iris reluctantly walked back to the sofa, climbing under the blanket beside her sleeping twin.
Once the child was out of earshot, Griffin pulled the vinyl armchair right up to the edge of the bed. He sat down, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped tightly together.
"Talk, Sloan," Griffin commanded, his voice cold and steady. "And if you lie to me even once, I swear to God I will have my legal team file an emergency custody petition before the sun finishes rising."
Sloan’s eyes snapped open, a flash of her old fire returning to her hazel eyes. "You wouldn't dare."
"Try me," Griffin shot back without a second's hesitation. "You hid my children from me for eight years. You raised them in a cramped duplex while working yourself to death, keeping them from a life where they would never want for a single thing. You have five seconds to start explaining before I make this the ugliest custody war this state has ever seen."
Sloan squeezed her eyes shut, taking a ragged, painful breath. Her concussion made her head spin, but she knew she was completely out of exits. The secret was dead. The dragon was awake.
"I didn't know I was pregnant when I left Paris, Griffin," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I found out four weeks later, in a cheap motel in Oregon."
Griffin’s jaw clenched. "Why did you leave Paris in the first place? We were happy! I bought the ring, Sloan! I had the restaurant cleared out on the Seine! And I woke up on Tuesday morning, and your passport was gone, your clothes were gone, and there was nothing on the nightstand except the key card!"
"Because your mother showed up at my hotel room while you were at the board meeting!" Sloan cried out softly, her voice cracking with eight years of suppressed agony.
Griffin froze. His posture went completely rigid. "What?"
"Victoria came to my room," Sloan said, tears flowing freely down her face now. "She didn't threaten me with money, Griffin. She showed me the dossiers. She showed me what Drake International was doing to my father’s small architecture firm in Chicago. She was systematically bankrupting my family because I refused to sign a prenuptial agreement that stripped me of any rights as a wife."
Griffin stared at her, his face turning a terrifying shade of gray.
"She told me that if I married you, she would destroy my father, destroy my brother's career, and ensure I was blacklisted from every architectural firm in North America," Sloan whispered. "She said I was a parasite trying to bleed the Drake family dry. And then she showed me a recorded conversation of you..."
Sloan stopped, a painful sob catching in her throat.
"A recorded conversation of what?" Griffin demanded, his voice barely audible.
"You and your cousin Julian," Sloan choked out. "You were drinking scotch at the hotel bar. Julian asked you if you were really going to marry an orphan girl from Chicago with no family backing. And you laughed, Griffin. You laughed and said, 'Sloan is a sweet distraction, but she’ll learn how the world works soon enough.'"
Griffin looked as though he had been struck by a bolt of lightning. His breath hitched in his throat. He sat frozen in the chair, his mind racing back ten years to a dark hotel bar in Paris.
"Oh, God," Griffin breathed, pressing his hand against his face. "Sloan... no. No, no, no."
May you like
"I heard your voice, Griffin," Sloan sobbed softly. "I heard you call me a distraction. I was twenty-four years old, broke, terrified, and completely in love with you. I realized your mother was right. I was just a game to your family. So I took my savings, I bought a bus ticket, and I disappeared."
Griffin stood up so violently that his chair crashed backward onto the floor.
