Page 67 of Daddy's Ring
"No?" I pick up my whiskey, take a slow sip. "Strange. I figured you'd be pretty familiar with activities that happen outside of work hours. Off the books, so to speak."
Stellan makes a small sound that might be amusement. Jamie deals the next hand with careful precision, his face blank.
"Declan." Bianca's voice has an edge to it now. "What are you doing?"
"Playing poker." I don't look at her, keep my attention fixed on Dorian. "Making conversation. Asking Vale about hisschedule since he seems to have plenty of time for... side projects."
"I don't—" Dorian starts.
"You know what I find interesting?" I interrupt, setting my cards down deliberately. "My wife here—" I gesture to Bianca without looking at her "—she's pregnant. Can you believe that?"
Bianca's gone pale. "Declan?—"
"The interesting part is that I've never touched her." I let that hang in the air for a beat. "Not once. Not even a kiss. So that baby she's carrying?" I finally look at Dorian, watch the color drain from his face. "Must be someone else's."
"That's—" Dorian tries to stand but Stellan's already moved, a hand on his shoulder pushing him back down.
"Sit." My voice is quiet, conversational. "We're not done talking."
Frank's staring at his daughter with an expression that promises consequences. "Bianca. Tell me he's lying."
"He is!" She's on her feet now, voice shrill. "He's lying, Papa, I don't know why he'd say?—"
"Because you fucked up." I cut her off, still calm. Still controlled. "You came to my bookstore?—"
"Yourbookstore?" Stellan mutters.
"—and tried to stake a claim on a marriage that doesn't exist. Told someone who actually matters to me to back off because you're carrying my child." I lean forward. "Except you're not. You're carrying his."
I jerk my chin toward Dorian, who looks like he might vomit.
"This is insane." Bianca's backing toward the door but Jamie's already moved to block it. "Declan, you're not thinking clearly?—"
"I'm thinking perfectly clearly." I stand, and everyone else at the table shifts slightly. "I know you've been fucking Vale since before our wedding. I know the baby isn't mine because I haven'tso much as held your hand. And I know—" I look at Frank "—that you forced this marriage without bothering to find out if your daughter would actually stay in it."
Frank's jaw works. He's furious, but not at me—at her. At the mess she's created, the embarrassment she's about to cause his family.
"How do we fix this?" he asks quietly.
"We don't." Stellan leans back in his chair, the picture of casual ease. "We end it. Annulment, dissolution, whatever you want to call it. You won't even have to call her a divorcee. The marriage was never consummated, there's clear evidence of infidelity, and Declan wants out. Clean break."
"What about—" Dorian starts.
"You marry her." Stellan's smile is all teeth. "Congratulations. You wanted to fuck her, now you get to keep her."
Dorian looks between Bianca and Frank like he's trying to figure out if there's any way out of this. There isn't.
"Papa—" Bianca tries.
"Enough." Frank stands, his expression carved from stone. "You brought this on yourself. You will marry Vale within the month. The baby will be legitimate. And you—" He looks at me "—you'll have your annulment. I apologize for my daughter's behavior."
The formal tone says everything: this is business now, not family. Frank's cutting his losses, preserving what reputation he can.
"Appreciate it." I don't extend my hand. Don't pretend this ends with us being friendly.
Frank leaves, Bianca trailing behind him with tears streaming down her face and Dorian following like a man walking to his execution. Jamie and Vincent excuse themselves quietly, leaving me and Stellan alone in the room.
"Well." Stellan gathers the cards, starts shuffling them with practiced ease. "That went better than expected. Nobody died."
