Ruthless Noble by Alley Ciz
CHAPTER 40
The sharp rapof knuckles knocking on the door has my head falling forward to rest on Jasper’s chest. Breathing in his intoxicating sandalwood scent has me wishing we could stay in our own little bubble.
This past week has been exhausting in so many ways it’s hard to believe we’re in the home stretch.
Who would have thought the easiest obstacle we’d deal with would be putting an end to my engagement? I was prepared for a lot more pushback given that my proposed future father-in-law was a public figure, but Governor Delacourte surprised us all with his simple acceptance.
Even Jasper had a moment of shock at the lack of argument from his own father. I’m sure the governor’s acquiescence helped smooth the way, but I think it was the open apology from my…Mitchell that helped the most.
Since hearing how he championed and defended me, I haven’t been able to think of him as my stepdad any longer. I also haven’t been able to think of him as my dad despite that being true, though the more time we spend together, the more I’ve been growing toward being able to. For now, he’s just Mitchell.
My feet kick against the side of the desk as my legs fall from Jasper stepping out from between them. I frown, but he doesn’t go far. His shoulder brushes mine as he leans against the edge of the desk, his feet crossing at the ankles like they do when he posts up against my locker.
Wes mutters about someone having a death wish when the weight of Jasper’s hand skims the curve of my ass as he flattens it on the desk’s top, his thumb stretching up to play with the waistband of my jeans.
There’s so much riding on the outcome of this meeting that I can already feel the tightness forming inside my chest, and I take a quick hit from my inhaler to help keep my asthma at bay.
Jasper pinches my ass as he watches me, reminding me he’s here and to lean on him should I need to.
“Ready?” Chuck asks the room, hand poised on the doorknob. Collectively we nod, and he opens the door.
Mitchell’s face is the first I see as the door swings open, and his eyes automatically scan the space until they lock on me. The moment he finds me, relief enters his gaze, and a warm fuzziness fills me. His mouth curves into a grin, and I feel mine mirroring the action.
What…is this?
This sudden surge of rightness? The confidence blooming in my gut and radiating out through the rest of my body?
It’s familiar, but at the same time, it’s not—that instinctive certainty that a person would put his life on the line to help save yours if needed. I know it from my brother, not from a parent.
I’m not entirely certain how I’m supposed to handle it, but I won’t lie and say I’m not excited about getting the chance to figure it out.
When Mitchell steps to the side to allow Natalie to enter, the icy chill emanating from her blue gaze sets me to rights. That’s what I’m used to, that accusation for daring to be born. Yeah, love you too, Mom.
Natalie’s haughty you-are-all-my-puppets-and-you-will-do-as-I-say air lessens the smallest smidge when she catches sight of not just me but Jasper sitting vigil with his arm around me, along with Carter and the rest of the Royals scattered about.
There’s a clang then the slap of shoes hitting the floor as Wes straightens out of the chair, coming around the desk and taking the post on my other side while Carter moves in next to Jasper.
“What is all this?” With her shoulders rolled back, hands shoved in the pockets of her Burberry trench coat, one spiked heel planted in front of the other, Natalie does her best to look down her nose at us.
Verbally, no one says a word. Instead, like plates being added to a chest press bar, I feel the weight of each set of eyes as they land on me.
This is different—having the Royals look to me, not Carter, to take the lead.
Fingers spread up under my shirt, the press of their tips into my skin anchoring me and lending me their strength to see this thing through to the end.
“Well, Natalie…” I cross one leg over the other and lay my wrists on top of each other. “This is your chickens coming home to roost.”
“Does she have to liken us to poultry?” Tessa whispers before she’s hushed, Leo covering her mouth with a hand cupped over it.
“Mitchell.” Natalie turns to him. “Why are we here?”
I need to bite my lip to keep from smiling at the way Natalie’s micro-bladed brows knit when Mitchell doesn’t reach for her like he would have a week ago.
“Why don’t we sit?” He waves a hand toward the six-person table against the far wall.
“Go on, Natalie.” Chuck makes a shooing motion with his hands when she hesitates. He might be enjoying this as much as I am. “Have a seat.”
There’s another scan of the room; this time, some of that holier-than-thou-ness slips a little. Her movements are stiff and robotic when she finally moves toward the table.
She’s too busy huffing and puffing over nobody helping pull out her chair to see the slight nod Mitchell shares with me. He knows none of this would have been possible without him, but still, he’s allowing me to have the control. That’s all I ever wanted—to be the one in control of my own life.
It blows my mind that this man who grew up in a world of privilege, who could have so easily not helped me to foster his own goals, chose to put me first instead.
Trusting others outside the circle I grew up with is a new concept for me, yet each time I’ve chosen to do so in my bid to take back my life, I’ve learned something from it.
Scared is not an adjective I would have ever used to describe myself, so why is that exactly how I allowed Natalie to make me feel, make me act for months?
No more. It ends today.
Reaching a hand behind me, I feel around until I find the stack of folders I’m searching for.
With a quick kiss to Jasper’s cheek, I jump down from my perch and cross the floor with long confident strides. Without giving Natalie a chance to levy a threat about my open association with Jasper, I slap the folders onto the polished tabletop with a resounding smack, each one fanning out from the force.
With a glance back over my shoulder, I see the You got this quirk to Jasper’s lips before I direct Carter with a Get over here nod.
“You wanted to know why you’re here, hmm, Natalie?” I move until I’m standing on one side of Mitchell with Carter taking the other, the three of us a united force opposite where Natalie sits.
“What did I do to deserve such a disrespectful child?” Her carefully lined lips twist into a frown. The effortless way she can cast herself as the victim is something I don’t think I’ll ever be able to wrap my head around.
“Nothing.” I run my tongue across the front of my teeth and share a look with my brother. “You’ve done absolutely nothing.”A smug satisfaction starts to bloom on her face, but I shut that shit right down. “In fact…you’ve done so little you probably shouldn’t be allowed to call me your child.”
Panic flares swift in her eyes as her gaze jumps to Mitchell, who’s sitting in almost bored stony silence.
“Hate to break it to you, Natalie—” A burst of laughter escapes me, cutting off my words. “Nobody is coming to your rescue. You’re completely on your own here.”
“You listen to me, you little brat.” She stabs a finger to the table, her bloodred nail digging into the wood. Ah, there’s the vitriol I’m used to. “Just because you fail to see how marriage is supposed to work by throwing away the engagement I so painstakingly arranged for you for that one”—she flicks a hand toward Jasper—“doesn’t mean others do. Mitchell is my husband. He’s not going to sit here and let you speak to me this way.”
“Yes, he will,” I say with complete confidence. “Just like he helped put an end to your antiquated attempt at a betrothal.”
“What?” Natalie’s eyes go wide, and her jaw unhinges. “I orchestrated that for you,” she accuses Mitchell. “Why would you risk a possible path to the White. House?”
Mitchell only shrugs, one shoulder rising beneath his suit jacket. “Some things are more important.”
“What?” Natalie’s screech is enough to have everyone wincing and a few of us covering our ears. “It’s the White House, Mitchell. If we played our cards right, you might have been president one day. What could possibly be more important than a chance at the presidency?”
It’s truly remarkable how the future was so clear in her mind, how sure she was that all these elements would just click into place because she willed it to be. To her, Mitchell eventually ascending to the country’s highest office was a done deal as long as we fell in line. Delusional is the best descriptor to use.
“Oh…I don’t know.” I hold both hands out and shrug both my shoulders mockingly. “Maaayybe his only child’s happiness?” I add in a head tilt for good measure. “Though I guess I shouldn’t expect you to understand that since you have zero maternal instincts of your own.”
A part of me is disappointed I shot down Tessa’s offer to film this fiasco because Natalie’s expression could have launched a thousand GIFs; it’s that comical.
She gasps. “You know?”
“No thanks to you.” A bone-deep satisfaction fills me. “It’s a shame your hubris will be your downfall.”
I spent so many years being neglected, followed by months of living under the weight of her threats. I honestly have a hard time remembering a time when I didn’t wish she was gone from my life.
Finally, we found a way to make that happen, to put an end to all her lies and deceptions and excise the cancer from all our lives.
Bracing a hand on the table, I place a finger on the red folder and drag it from the fanned out pile before sliding it in front of a silent Natalie.
A half sneer, half smirk forms on my mouth as I slip a finger under a corner and flip the folder open. My birthday may be in a few weeks and will probably be here and gone before anything is processed, but still, Mitchell insisted on petitioning for full legal custody. “This was filed yesterday.” I tap the papers inside before laying out another folder, this one with the paternity results I found in Mitchell’s safe.
The color leeches from Natalie’s face, but I’m not done.
Another folder, this one green and thicker than the others, is opened and set down to display the bound prenuptial agreement she signed before marrying Mitchell.
When I pick up the black and final folder, I extend it to Mitchell to see if he wants to do the honors on this one, but he motions for me to continue.
I won’t lie—though my typical suggestion for getting retribution would have fallen along the lines of Let’s hold her down and pluck each of her eyelashes out, knowing we’re about to cut her off from everything she worked and schemed for fulfills my savage side.
Instead of gently placing this one down like I did the others, I let it drop with a plop, the color-tabbed papers inside fluttering from the force.
I fold my arms over my chest in an effort not to pump my fist in the air at how Natalie’s eyes bug out when she reads the words Petition for Divorce typed in bold capital letters across the top of the page.
“Is this supposed to be some kind of joke?”
“I assure you it’s not,” Mitchell says. “While I can admit to some of the more self-serving motivations behind the quickness of our union, I did not enter this marriage on a foundation of lies like you.”
“Wha—”
Mitchell holds up a hand to cut off whatever tirade Natalie was about to go on. “The tenure of our marriage was short enough that you actually aren’t entitled to a thing from me—”
Any color remaining in Natalie’s complexion is gone at the realization.
“—but if you sign these papers”—he circles a finger over the whole pile—“before walking out the door, I’ll cut you a check for a hundred thousand dollars as soon as the divorce is finalized with the courts.”
Natalie opens her mouth again, but Mitchell stays her by extending one finger.
“Though there are a few strings that will be attached.”
A war plays out on Natalie’s features as she calculates how best to turn this around to her advantage. “What kind of strings?” she finally asks through gritted teeth.
The air shifts and crackles with new energy as Mitchell practically transforms in front of our eyes. Gone is the approachable man unashamed to show his vulnerability and eagerness to establish a relationship with his long-lost daughter. In his place is the formidable persona that aided him in becoming a revered hotelier.
“If you ever attempt to do anything that would hurt Savvy or Carter”—Natalie’s eyes narrow at the inclusion of Mitchell’s non-biological child—“I will have my legal team bury you in so many lawsuits you’ll never be able to dig your way out.”
“What do you care about Carter for? He’s not yours.”
My nose scrunches at her grasping at any straw she can in an attempt to hold on to the one thing she has in this situation, always resorting to threats even when she’s clearly lost.
“He’s Savvy’s brother. That’s good enough for me.” Mitchell’s answer is automatic. “Plus, he’s done more for my daughter than I’ll ever be able to repay—” Emotion has his voice wobbling, and he takes a beat to clear his throat. “Putting an end to your veiled threats is just one small step I can take to help show how much I appreciate everything he’s done to care for Savvy when I wasn’t able to.”
This was the part I was most nervous about. There’s no actual legal document we could present to garner Natalie’s agreement on this. Not even an NDA could guarantee she wouldn’t be able to turn over any evidence she claims to have—though none of us could find proof it actually exists—to the authorities. We just have to hope our own financial and legal threats are enough to keep her in check.
A weight landing on my shoulders startles me, but I settle once I realize it’s just Carter putting his arm around me. I reach for the hand hanging down my arm and link my fingers with his.
When I laid out the details of my plan, he was skeptical. Sure, we have the Falcos in our lives, but Carter has been operating on survival instinct for so long I understood the hesitancy. This all seemed too easy, too good to be true. Silly man. He should have trusted me enough to help handle our issues together instead of trying to shield me from them.
I get a whispered “Stop holding your breath” from him as we wait to see what Natalie will do.
After what feels like forever, the last of the fight seems to drain out of her, and she reaches for the pen Chuck was more than happy to offer her.
Once the last of the papers are signed, Mitchell pushes his chair back and rises to stand. He places a kiss on my cheek and tells me he’ll see me tomorrow before he escorts Natalie out of the room. He already has movers at the St. James packing her belongings to expedite the extraction of her from our lives.
I’m not sure if I’ll be returning to the penthouse or if I’ll just go back to Carter’s now that I’m not stuck living under Natalie’s thumb.
It doesn’t matter.
You know why?
Because when the time comes to choose, it’ll be my decision—mine, and no one else’s.
This year may have started entirely out of my control, but in the chaos, I’ve managed to create something for myself I never knew was possible.