Lured into Lies by Melanie Martins

Chapter 35

Alexander Van Dieren

It’s impossible to describe the pain I feel from being lied to by my best-man and brother-in-law. The pain is so sharp and intense that I want to scream and punch walls. That my sisters and Mom want to kill Dad doesn’t surprise me, but the fact that Sebastian went along with it and lied to me? Fuck… How can he do that while keeping a straight face? I let the warm water of the shower pour on my head and shoulders as I try to process everything that happened since yesterday evening, and as much as I want to be in denial with reality, Sebastian knew, he fucking knew those agents were working for him, and he reported my dad as soon as he could. This was most likely Julia’s idea, and I’m pretty sure he just shrugged and thought he could lie and get away with it.

After showering, I grab a new white shirt and a pair of black pants that hang on the wardrobe and get dressed. This time I won’t be wearing a tux but a black tail coat along with a white piqué waistcoat and bow tie––similar to what my dad wore on his wedding day. As I stand in front of the mirror, I hang the bow tie flat around my neck, and as I’m about to cross the long end over the short one, I hear a few knocks on the door followed by my dad asking if he can come in. After giving him an affirmative answer, I turn and find him already fully dressed in white tie formal.

“Look at you,” he says with a twinkle in his eye, and we both smile at each other. “You look just like me when I got married.”

I chuckle at his statement given the fact it was exactly what I was thinking a few minutes ago.

“What? That’s true. I used to be young and charming.”

“I’m sure you were…”

Dad stands in front of me and takes the longer end of my bow tie and crosses it over the short one.

“You know, after not being invited to any of your sisters’ weddings, something told me that with yours it’d be different.” Then he ties the long end around the short, pulling the long end up toward my collar. “I don’t blame them, I guess they only saw me as a mere decorative figure.”

“Don’t say that.”

But Dad keeps himself focused on my bow, like he wants to make it perfect.

Once it’s done, he looks at me and continues speaking. “The point is, don’t let your kids look at you the way mine did.” There’s something in his gaze that has switched. It’s more melancholic and nostalgic than before. “Take time off, spend time with your family, get to know them, what they like, what they hate, go watch their games and celebrate their accomplishments.” He pauses for a beat, letting out a breath. “So that once they grow up and leave the house, they will cherish you and care for you.” We share a small smile, before he says, “Being estranged from your children is no fun, believe me.”

“Thanks for the advice,” I tell him sincerely. Then I embrace him, and treasure this moment as much as I can. After all, it’s not every day that my dad is here in the Netherlands with me.

I hear a few knocks on the door and Stuart, the butler, steps in. “Good afternoon…” He blinks twice, a bit troubled to see my dad here. “Um, Lord Hendrik, good afternoon, um, the driver is waiting downstairs.”

“Thank you, we’ll be there in a minute,” I tell him as we pull away. I see my dad wipe a small tear from his cheek.

“Oh, and I have to give you this.” Stuart walks over and shows me a boutonniere with white flowers; they seem to be jasmine. Dad takes the boutonniere from Stuart and pins it on my right lapel. “Um, I also need your ring since we will give it to the bishop to bless it.”

What I wouldn’t do to make my Mom happy… I take the ring out and give it to Stuart. “Here.”

“Ready?” Dad asks.

“And you?”

“Oh yes.” And we make our way out of the castle and into the car.

* * *

Den Bosch, December 6, 2020

If the civil ceremony was something small and intimate, with just friends and family in attendance, the religious one is a totally different story. The families of my brothers-in-laws are all here, along with other families that Mom knows well, but I barely know their names. As I arrive in front of the cathedral, I see a few guests standing outside chatting and smoking a cigarette, all wearing white tie suits.

“Oh, Gary is here,” Dad says.

“Who’s Gary?” I ask.

“Baron Bentinck?”

His name doesn’t ring me a bell. “No idea…” I shrug.

“That gentleman on the right.” Dad points out from the window. “His dad used to be my mentor.”

“Really? How long ago?”

“When I was around twenty-three…” I keep looking at him with some suspicion. “Yes, I too have been young.”

I chuckle at his comment, because that seems like ages ago. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Your face said it all.” Silence ensues as Dad seems to be thinking something through. “By the way, um, have you spoken to your mother since this morning?”

“No, I haven’t. There’s not much to say honestly.”

Dad puts a hand on my shoulder in understanding. “Well, let’s go.”

As we walk in the direction of the entrance, I remain a bit apprehensive on how the noble families will treat him. Not that I give a shit about them, but I hope no one will bring to the conversation what happened twenty-three years ago or especially not his exile to Bermuda.

Reaching the double doors, we go and speak to the ushers so that they can find him a seat in the front row. “Not beside my mom, though, somewhere else, please,” I insist.

“Alright. The parents of the groom normally walk together down the aisle. Do you want to go alone, first?” the female usher asks him. “Or else, I can escort you if you want.”

I see Dad hesitating whether or not to draw attention to himself by walking down the aisle.

I glance quickly inside, and damn, the cathedral is full, and I nearly don’t recognize anyone in there.

“Alright, I can go after Margaret,” he agrees. I can see how tensed he is because attending the ceremony without having to hide himself wasn’t really in the plan.

“Shall we?” I hear a female voice asking behind me. As I turn around, my eyes lay on Mom, who seems a totally transformed woman from this morning as she sports an elegant navy blue stretch crepe sheath dress with matching jewelry and heels. The question was made to another usher though—not to us. And once the first processional song starts resonating across the cathedral, Mom, escorted by an usher, passes through Dad and I without saying a word, as if we weren’t even here.

I press my lips tight, shaking my head at her attitude until she finally disappears from our sight. Fortunately, this whole thing will be over very soon, and by this evening, my wife and I will be out of here.

* * *

Beurs van Berlage, December 6, 2020

To the utmost dislike of my mother, I made sure Dad would sit at the head table beside Petra for the official reception hosted at the Beurs van Berlage in Amsterdam. Roy didn’t mind switching seats with him and to sit beside Emma instead. A small favor, but it means the world to me.

Despite talking to my sisters like nothing happened this morning, I can’t bring myself to do the same with Sebastian. After we take the official wedding picture with the Van den Bosch family, Sebastian walks past my dad, ignoring him completely. Should I have expected that he would give my father an apology or some sort of explanation? I don’t know… what I do know, though, is that I despise that asshole for breathing the same air as the man he wanted to kill just a few hours ago. I’m glad he won’t be making any type of speech today because there would be nothing sincere to say.

I spend the whole evening avoiding him and, given the fact there are over eight hundred guests in attendance, it’s not that hard to do. I find myself spending most of my time with Dad and Roy, and as I come to think of it, I realize Roy is also kind of my dad too, which is weird as fuck.

“My driver has just arrived,” Dad tells me.

I give a quick glance at my watch, and my eyes widen in surprise seeing it’s nearly ten p.m.

“Are you sure he is trustworthy?” I ask once more.

“Yes, it’s the same that dropped me at the De Haar. Don’t worry, nothing will happen to me.” While Dad tries to reassure me, I will only feel at ease when I know he’s back on his island.

“Alright, Petra and I will escort you outside.”

I text Petra to meet me at the entrance, knowing she went to change clothes to get ready to leave soon. A few minutes later, I find her, standing by the door, sporting a casual white dress and a pair of boots. Yet, she’s just as radiant and gorgeous as when I saw her at the cathedral.

As her eyes meet mine, she seems surprised. “You didn’t change yet?”

I glance at my watch, and I realize our driver shall be here in less than ten minutes. “I’ll do it right after.”

We escort my dad to the outdoors and find his car parked right in front of the stairs with his driver waiting outside. I check the plate, making sure it’s him, and Dad smiles, noticing it.

“Well, here we are,” he mumbles, a bit undecided on what to do next. He rests his hands on Petra’s shoulder and mine, and looking at us, he says, “It was an honor and a privilege to attend your wedding. I wish you all the best and much happiness.” His words make my lips curve up, and I put my other hand on his shoulder, showing my appreciation. “And next time, I’ll visit you in New York.”

“Thank you for coming,” Petra replies, before plunging him into a hug. “And yes, New York should be a safer place to visit us.”

Then I also embrace him tightly, and it feels great to know my dad managed to attend our wedding. Given the fact that he didn’t attend the ones of my sisters, I also didn’t have high hopes he’d attend mine. “Alright, well, have a safe flight and call me when you land,” I tell him.

Dad gets into his car, and we wave at him until the car drives him away. My eyes remain pinned on the horizon, and I think how, each time he leaves, my heart aches a bit. Not because I’m gonna miss him, but because if he had had some goddamn discipline and kept it in his pants, his separation with Mom would’ve been much more peaceful. Or maybe—just maybe—they’d have remained together.

“I think your dad had the time of his life today,” Petra says, breaking our silence.

“Yeah, I’m actually glad he came.”

She then reaches for my hand and brings herself closer to me. As she stands right in front of me, she starts playing with my bow, and asks, “Don’t you think you should wear something a bit more comfortable for our flight?”

My face beams with joy because flight means traveling away with her and going to an exotic island where no one but us will be there.

“I’m gonna go change now.”

As we get back inside the venue, Petra goes to say goodbye to her dad and Emma, while I go into one of the rooms, where my luggage is, to change clothes.

I switch from this ultra-formal suit to a pair of pants, white shirt, and navy blazer. All of a sudden, though, I hear a few knocks on the wooden door before it cracks open.

“May I?” And to my biggest surprise, it’s the asshole I managed to avoid the whole evening—Sebastian.

“What are you doing here?” I snap as I give a quick glance at him.

Despite my question and rude tone, Sebastian walks in and closes the door behind him. Then, cautiously enough, he paces in my direction, and says, “I wanted to talk to you before you go.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” I tell him, finishing adjusting my collar in front of the mirror. “It’s all said and done.”

“It’s not what you think.”

I turn to face him, but my blood boils in rage at the simple sight of that piece of shit. “Oh, it’s exactly what I think; you pretended to be on my side when in reality you couldn’t wait to kill him.”

“No—I’m the one who saved him.”

I frown in confusion upon hearing his answer. “What are you talking about?”

“I persuaded your mom to just scare him with Russian roulette, which is why your dad called you over so that you could see it for your own eyes.”

I huff at his stupid reply. “Man, what a liar you are. Just admit it; Julia wanted him dead, and you went along with it.”

“I swear it’s the truth, no one except your mom wanted to kill him.” But I shake my head, because I know he’s just trying to dupe me. “Yara even put a cartridge without a bullet inside the gun. We just wanted to scare him so that he wouldn’t come back. That’s it. Ask your sisters and you’ll see.”

“Who told those two agents that my dad was upstairs, huh?” I ask, glaring at him. “Because last time I checked, those two guys were working for the Van Den Bosh, and you were the only one who knew my dad was in there.”

“It wasn’t me who gave that info away…” his tone is barely audible, and I can see the embarrassment in his eyes.

“So who was it then? Your wife?”

I let out a quick chuckle at his pathetic expression; he can’t even hide his game properly. Of course it was my sister. I shake my head and get my luggage, ready to leave this room.

“I thought your wedding could be a great occasion for her to see her dad again and forgive him.”

His answer halts me, but not in a good way. “Wow,” I utter, looking at him in the eye. “After twenty years of marriage, you really thought she’d give a fuck about him? How can you be so damn naive?”

“I never thought she’d go and share the info with her mom, okay? She’d promised me to keep it to herself,” he finally fesses out. “And she was the one who brought our agents for extra security. I didn’t take care of that shit.”

Blowing out a breath, I shake my head at his credulous attitude toward his wife, which nearly resulted in the death of my dad. “Look, I’ll remain polite and courteous with you given the centuries-old alliance and friendship between our respective families, but that’s it,” I tell him, my patience running low. “No matter how well-constructed your excuse is, what we had to go through this morning is absolutely unforgivable.” I give a quick glance at my watch and say, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a plane to catch.”

I pass through him, and as I reach the handle of the door, I hear Sebastian asking, “You gonna end twenty years of friendship because of that shit?”

“You lied to me,” I remind him, since it seems like he forgot that. “You are the one who ended it.” And without further ado, I turn around and leave.

* * *

Despite being on our way to an exotic island in the Indian Ocean, the discussion with Sebastian keeps replaying in my mind. After all, it’s not every day that you get betrayed by your best man. But no matter his good intentions, I can’t forget or forgive what he did. I’ve gotten used to the cruelty of my family toward my father, but coming from him? That's a whole new low. No matter his excuse, I can’t bring myself to accept it.

“Julia spoke to me,” Petra mumbles as I remain exhausted in my seat. “She told me they did the Russian roulette thing just to scare him.” I watch as she fiddles with her wedding and engagement rings, and the sight of it warms my heart.

“Yeah, Sebastian told me the same…” I rub my eyelids tiredly for a moment, before saying, “But I don’t trust them anymore.” Then looking at Petra, who’s seated in front of me, I add, “They could’ve given him a heart attack. Their little game could’ve ended pretty badly.”

“I know…”

“Petra, I’m so sorry for this morning, you should’ve never had to go through that.”

“I can forgive you under one condition.” The smirk that forms on her face almost makes me smile. In fact, I do so, and I even laugh. She has something on her mind as she goes and sits on my lap. Then, wrapping her arms around me, she says, “You have to tell me why your mom hates him so much.”

A quick chuckle escapes me because I knew it was about something she wanted to know. “How come you are so damn curious all the time?” I try to find the answer in her blue eyes, but instead I just get lost in them.

“Because I love to know new things, especially when it comes to you and your family. They are so, um, strange.”

Her answer keeps me smiling and I cannot not agree with it. “They are.” As she keeps patiently waiting for me to delve into my family past, I finish my drink and take a deep breath. “Mom’s youngest child is not Yara,” I tell her, gauging her reaction. “It’s Jimmy, who was a stillborn.” Her lips part at my answer, but she doesn’t say a word. “Mom tried to have another child, but didn’t manage for a long, long time. After three miscarriages, though, she was finally about to deliver her new baby into the world… when his heartbeat stopped six hours before.” I pause for a beat, trying to chase away the images of Mom crying when I saw her holding her dead son. “The experience of giving birth to a stillborn is traumatizing enough. Yet, just a year later, Dad was having another Jimmy Van Dieren from his secretary.” I close my eyes for an instant, exhaling slowly. “The humiliation she felt… I don’t think it’s something she ever recovered from.”

“Wow…” Petra drops her gaze as she remains speechless, thinking something through. “When I thought your dad was the least evil of them all…”

“My family is fucked up, Petra,” I tell her. And I truly mean it. “I won’t pretend they aren’t.” I clench my jaw at the thought.

A gush of air rolls off her lips, and she softly grazes her fingers around my cheek. “Now you have me.”

Her voice soothes me and makes me smile. “Now I have you, yes.” Then she leans down and presses her glossy lips against mine in a kiss filled with so much devotion and love that everything else fades away, and I just close my eyes reveling in it. My hand cups the back of her head, and I pull her closer to me, claiming her mouth. Her hands travel down to my open collar and start lingering on my skin. Breaking the kiss, I watch her unbuttoning the rest of my shirt with hunger in her gaze. That’s one of the gazillion things I love about her; this hunger she has for me. It makes me want to have her right here, right now. Biting my lip, I lean toward her earlobe and ask, “Have we ever fucked in the sky?”