Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
I grit my teeth as Sylvie looks back to Rosemund through the open car window, almost as if she’s looking for affirmation that’s what she should do. I’m not sure why, since Rosemund has no legal authority where Sylvie is concerned. And Sylvie knows this.
It’s most likely just to piss me off.
My temper flares bright when Rosemund gives Sylvie a nod of approval and only then does she turn on her heel, grab her bookbag from the ground and storm off toward the house. I watch her for a few seconds before turning to Rosemund and bending down to eye level. “Don’t come back here again seeking Sylvie out.”
“You can’t stop me from talking to her.”
I chuckle, rubbing at the scruff on my face. “I can if I want to, Rosemund. But I’m the one who gave her the means to contact you by phone. So don’t think I’m standing in your way of having a legitimate, honest relationship with your granddaughter. But I’m not going to stand for you filling her head with poison and making it harder for her to acclimate to life here in this home. I’m warning you to stay away. Talk to her by phone if you want but these little meetings after school where the two of you plot are over.”
“Or what?” Rosemund spits out. “It sounds like there’s a threat under those words and you know Lionel would not like that.”
“Fuck your husband and his dislike of threats.” I put both hands on the edge of the car door and lean farther in. “But to answer your question, yeah… That was a threat. And if you want to know what I’m going to do, I’m going to take a page out of the history books. Look it up. You remember Claude Blackburn? He single-handedly almost took down your entire family and that was just out of spite. Imagine what I could do fueled by the prospect that you might be harming a little girl.”
Claude Blackburn was a crafty son of a bitch and during Prohibition, he used his influence in politics to block the Mardraggons from obtaining medicinal liquor permits. Eventually, they found a way around it, but it almost put them under.
“I would never harm Sylvie,” Rosemund says, her chin jerking inward.
“The lies you’re telling her are harmful. Keeping this feud at the forefront is harmful. Refusing to let her be a little girl who can settle into a new life after absorbing the death of her mother—”
“I lost a daughter,” Rosemund yells.
That softens me, but only incrementally. “And I’m sorry for your loss. But my duties and loyalty belong solely to Sylvie now. I will protect her at all costs. Do not cross me in a way that will set me on a warpath. You may not know me very well but when I tell you that I always achieve my goals, it means I can ruin you and your family if I set my mind to it.”
Rosemund’s lips press flat and her eyes sizzle with fury. “I’ll pass the message on to Lionel. But I’m confident in saying you should watch your back, Ethan. Our family is not one to be crossed.”
My eyes bore into hers. “Duly noted. Get off my property.”
Rosemund doesn’t wait, slamming the car in drive and spewing gravel as she whips onto the state road without even looking to see if traffic is coming. I rub hard at the back of my neck as I watch her disappear around a curve.
I glance back toward the house and see that Sylvie is just making her way up the front porch.
The lies Rosemund has been telling Sylvie all center around the original feud that happened over a hundred years ago. In my recordings of Sylvie’s French tirades, the words cheater, infidelity and murder have all been repeated. The same lies that have been spread around about our ancestor Elizabeth Blackburn and her father James Blackburn. It is so fucking moot, that shit happened so long ago, but the history of hate has been passed down, and I can’t deny that it certainly colored my perception of every single person who bears the Mardraggon name. It’s still amazing to me that there was enough alcohol in this county that got me and Alaine drunk enough to have sex, resulting in a pregnancy.
I have to find a way to counteract the vitriol Sylvie has been listening to for the past handful of months. It isn’t just since she came to live with me. Hell, if Alaine was doing her duty, she had probably been indoctrinating Sylvie against the Blackburns ever since the child was old enough to understand such things. For all I know, Alaine badmouthed my family all the way over in France, nurturing an ingrained hatred in our daughter.