Page 38 of Devil's Sinner
"There's more to it than that," Dad muttered.
"Then tell me the rest of it. There's no time to lose."
"The Sloanes—your mother's family—and the Davenports, Violet's mother's family, were always bitter rivals. Did you know Violet's father was engaged to your mother's sister?"
I furrowed my brows, shaking my head. All of our family histories were intertwined. There was so much history left to uncover.
"He called off the engagement, for Brynne—Violet's mother. And your mother, Winter, was the one who had to comfort and console her sister. Back then, she swore she'd have revenge on the Cabots for what Hugo did to her sister."
"What about the two of you?" I asked. "Did she find out about your affair with Brynne?"
Dad stared out of the tinted car window, his jaw setting. "She showed up the first night Brynne and I were together. Then years later, she found out it didn’t end that night. She could accept my affairs with other women, but not Brynne. That’s what finally ended our marriage, Devlin."
"How come I never knew any of this?" I knitted my brows together. "Nobody ever told me."
"Brynne's death changed everything," my father sighed. "I thought your mother's hatred had faded—that her lust for vengeance had been sated when Brynne died. I thought I was the only one holding a grudge—against Hugo, Violet's father, because he took the love of my life away from me."
"Seems like she made that decision herself," I muttered, my eyes meeting my father's. It was the first time I saw genuine pain in his eyes, realizing this was still a sore topic for him. I shut up pretty quickly after that, waiting for him to go on and tell me the rest of the story.
"Either way, I was wrong," my father muttered after a moment's pause. "Your mother was far from over it. She never let go of her hatred. In fact, it seemed as if it festered, and grew bigger over time. And because Violet is Brynne's daughter... Well, unfortunately, your mother's anger extends all the way to the girl you chose to love."
His words rang in my ears and I watched the landscape changing as we kept on driving.
Had I chosen Violet? Or had it always meant to be this way, the two of us together—against all odds, and against our families? What never happened for Brynne and my father was happening to me and Violet now. And I owed it to everyone to see the relationship through. To save Violet from my mother's wrath.
We spent the rest of the ride quietly pondering our families' history. I was quiet, thoughtful, my mind circling around the possibility of seeing Violet again, holding her in my arms. I was eager to have her back, to show her how much I'd missed her, to treat her the way she deserved and craved to be treated.
Finally, we arrived at Sloane Estate, where my mother Winter lived. My hopes soared as we neared the impressive mansion. Father and I had agreed I would tell mother I'd arrived for an impromptu visit, while he'd try to sneak some of the men in to track down Violet and save her. If mother suspected my father was with me, she'd never so much as let us cross the threshold of her home.
The limo pulled up in front of the house, on the large round driveway, and I got out of the car, heart hammering in my chest as I approached the entrance. I rang the doorbell while my men waited in the car. I needed to distract my mother, and my mind raced with the possibilities of how I was going to achieve that. Being this close to Violet, I could almost smell her sweet scent in the ear. My hands formed fists at my sides, and steely determination took over.
Family be damned. I'm taking my Violet back, and nobody can fucking stop me.
Finally, the door opened, and I was surprised to find my mother on the other side.
"Not letting the servants open your door?" I smirked at my mother. "That's so very unlike you."
"Devlin." She smiled crisply, pressing a cool peck against my cheek. I allowed it, though my skin was bristling when her lips grazed it. I wanted to yell at her, but I forced myself to hold back. "What a... pleasant,unexpectedsurprise."
"Not happy to see me?" Was I imagining it or were her toned shoulders even more tense than usual? "I thought you'd be excited to have a little impromptu visit from your favorite son."
"My only son," she corrected me with a cold smile. "Well, come in. Unfortunately, you can't stay for too long. I've got errands to run."
I followed her into the sunroom, trying to not be too obvious about checking out the place. As we sat down, I finally commented on the lack of help, since we hadn't seen a single servant since we walked in together. My mother had always been the kind of woman who didn't even tie her own shoelaces, and it surprised me to see her without at least one maid waiting to do her bidding.
"There's something going around here," she waved her arm nonchalantly. "They’re busy. Don't want them spreading their nasty germs."
"Understandable."
We stared at one another, as if we were playing in a blinking contest. She didn't waver, but neither did I. I was getting to the bottom of this, come hell or high water.
"Where is she, mother?"
"Where's who?" She took a sip of tea from the floral porcelain cup on the coffee table, feigning innocence.
"Violet." I got her name out through gritted teeth, and by then, it was getting impossible to hide my true feelings. "I know you have her, so cut the bullshit and give her back to me. Right the fuck now."
"Violet?" she repeated, then laughed out loud. "Oh, that Cabot girl. You've been fucking her, haven't you?"