The Legacy (Rivers Wilde Book 1)

by Dylan Allen

  “Is that really a thing?” she asks.

  “Oh, yes. In fact, the boys in my vintage would say—”

  “Vintage?” Confidence says with a scowl of confusion.

  “That’s stuck-up speak for ‘in the same year at school,’” Hayes tells her quickly. I frown at him before I continue.

  “Yes, in my year at school, they would say ‘heiress or above only,’ and it wasn’t something they said behind closed doors. It was a rule. And for heiresses like me, the same applied. My love—he had money, but not the kind that they liked. And there was someone else they wanted for me.

  “His family was offended. They decided I wasn’t what they wanted for their son. And family, to both of us, was everything. We went our separate ways.

  “He married someone else. I moved back East. But then, after my father got sick, I came home. We ran into each other at a fundraiser.” I can’t help my smile as I remember that night. Seeing him again.

  “We made a choice. When we got married, your grandfather disinherited me. Made your fath—" I stop when Hayes blanches. “I’m sorry, Jason, his heir. He was a newlywed, home from Cornell with his pretty, Beacon Hill heiress on his arm. He married the right girl, from the right family, and she had good childbearing hips—as my father called them,” I recall.

  “You moved to Italy?”

  “Not then. Your father and I bought a farm out in Brenham. We were raising steer, and I was three months pregnant when he just … disappeared.”

  “What does that mean?” Hayes asks in a sharp voice.

  “He left early one morning to go into town and just never came back home. It took me a week to call the police because I was sure he’d come back with a story about how his car ran off a cliff and he’d had to camp in the woods and wait for rescue. But after a week, I realized I couldn’t hide anymore. I went to his family. They had no idea where he was and accused me of having something to do with it. They had money of their own; they were smart and they wanted revenge. So, I hid you. Right under their noses. James’s wife’s hips weren’t so childbearing and she was ill. My father had disinherited me, and Thomas was on the verge of being expelled from West Point. We were all such a disappointment to him. The only thing he saw value in was you.

  “He refused to reinstate my inheritance. But he would give it to you. If I let James and his wife raise you as theirs. At the time, I thought it was a good idea. I was beside myself with grief and without two coins to rub together. And despite everything, I still believed in the Rivers name and I wanted my son—the true oldest child—to take his rightful place. And Thomas didn’t know. By the time he came home at the end of that term, I was in Italy. James and Ann had their brand-new baby boy in their arms and he was none the wiser. I don’t know how Thomas found out.” I shake my head dismally.

  “Well, Amelia has a clue. They obtained a copy of Anne’s autopsy. It says that she’d never given birth. And so, their hope is to prove that I’m illegitimate. They have no idea of the truth,” Hayes says in a low, dark voice that gives me the chills. I want to rewind, and I want to kill my little brother. He’s always been such a selfish pain in the ass.

  “I don’t know what is wrong with Thomas. He is so resentful of everything and I don’t understand it. He says he loves his family, but he’s forgotten just like our father did that family is the people who make it up. And the name is only as good as the people who bear it. I’m worried about him. That he would do this. But power is all he’s ever wanted. But he’s going to be sorry. This is going to open up another can of worms that none of us wants to revisit,” I say.

  “What? What could be worse than playing musical parents with me?” Hayes asks.

  “Nothing could be worse than that,” I say quietly. My heart is breaking that this is how he has to find out. But, it’s time.

  “So ...”

  “Your father. His name was Lucas Wilde,” I say and wait for the light to go on. His head draws back and his eyebrows shoot into his brow line. He shoots out of his seat and stalks over to the huge mantle over the fireplace in his living room.

  Confidence’s hand slams over her mouth, and her eyes dart between Hayes and me like she doesn’t know where to look.

  “Do you mean, the late Lucas Wilde?” Hayes asks without turning around to face me. He braces his hands on the mantle.

  “Yes. Him,” I say.

  “The father of Remington, Regan, Tyson? Him?” Hayes repeats.

  “Yes,” I say.

  “I thought he died when Remi was a kid,” Hayes says slowly.

  “No, that’s when he divorced Remington’s mother and ran off and married me. He was declared dead years later,” I answer and find that my defensiveness is still there.

  Hayes turns around then. His eyes are dark, red-rimmed and so angry that my heart convulses with the knowledge that it’s all directed at me.

  “You ran off with a married man who had three children?” he asks me the question I ask myself every single day.

  “Yes,” I answer, and when he turns back around, as if the sight of me is too much, I look at Confidence who is staring ahead blankly, unseeingly.

  I get up and walk over to stand behind him. “We were in love. And he married me,” I plead. “I know it sounds so wrong. I know we shouldn’t have been, but these things happen—”

  He turns around again, his eyes narrow slits now. I flinch at the expression in them.

  “You know what doesn’t happen? You don’t give your kid away and pass him off as someone else’s,” he rages.

  “I didn’t give you away,” I cry. I look at Confidence for help, but she’s watching Hayes intently, her eyes reflecting the ache of sympathy inside of her.

  Hayes stands up. “Wait. Remington Wilde is my older brother?” he asks in abject horror and shock. My stomach sinks and my panic rises. This could be a disaster. But I don’t dare ask Hayes for his discretion. Instead, I give him the truth.

  “Your half-brother, but yes. You have the same father. Or you did,” I respond and my heart constricts at the thought of Lucas and how much I loved him. How much he loved me, how badly he wanted to raise Hayes and Remi together, even though, in the end, he chose me over the possibility of being with his oldest son.

  “And Remi’s mother, grandmother, they all know this?”

  “Well. They know Lucas left me. They know I was pregnant. This is why they hate us so much. But, they don’t know who you are. Everybody thinks you’re James and Anne’s child. I told them and everyone else that I lost the baby,” I say and feel like vomiting at the look on Hayes face.

  “So, let me get this straight. I am a Wilde and a Rivers. You are my mother. I am the true heir because I am the true oldest of the oldest child. You are my mother,” he repeats.

  I nod.

  “I want you to call Amelia and make an official statement. Sign it, notarize it, and we’ll deliver it to Thomas’s attorneys. And then, I want you to leave and never come back,” he says quietly. Then he stands and walks out of the room. His back is ramrod straight just like his father’s had been. I watch helplessly as he walks up the stairs, his back straight, without a glance back in my direction.

  I look at Confidence, unsure what to say. “He doesn’t mean it,” she says softly. Her eyes are full of pity. I didn’t expect that, not after how I had treated her and what I’ve done to Hayes.

  “He does,” I say tearfully.

  “You don’t know him well at all,” she says sadly and shakes her head. I’m offended and want I to be mad. But, I know she’s right. I just nod. This lie has precluded a real intimacy with my child because I was always afraid of slipping up. I love him. I have been a shoulder to lean on and supportive of all his endeavors. But I also pushed him into marriage with a woman who proved to be treacherous, and I tried to run a good one away.

  “Give him some time and some space, but don’t you dare walk out and never come back,” she says.

  I give her a watery smile.

  “And th
at statement, please. Send it to Amelia today. The hearing is tomorrow. We’ll want to kill this question now. And deal with the question of fitness alone ...”

  She stands there, uncertain a little, and I ask, “Did you have something to say?”

  “Does Remington know?” she asks.

  “I don’t know, but I don’t think so. No one knew. They were just told to stay away from each other. You know? The dispute over the land was real, but what really put the wedge between us was Lucas leaving his family.”

  “Was it worth it?” she asks without elaborating.

  “Yes.” I answer without asking for clarification because it was all worth it.

  “For the year I had with the love of my life. For the son we made together. For the life our son got to lead. I would do it all again. Hindsight is easy, but it’s what I did, and it was hard. And it took me a long time to recover. When you’re a mother, you’ll know. Doing what your child needs instead of what you or they want is hard.”

  “I can only imagine,” she says, and I can’t read whatever’s really in her eyes. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

  And only because I know he’s in good hands do I let myself out of their house.

  * * *

  HAYES

  Confidence slides into bed with me and she doesn’t say a word. She lays down so we’re face to face.

  “Hey,” she says and takes my hands in hers. She lays them on the soft swell of her lower stomach and whispers, “Here we are. We’re safe in here.”

  I close my eyes and make promises to that little life growing inside of my life. My love. My everything.

  That as long as I draw breath, he will know only love—the tough but yielding kind—from me. That no one would be able to convince me to walk away from him.

  That I’m ready to be his father.

  That I’m the man his mother needs.

  That I know that his inheritance is more than just money and name. It’s our values; it the synchronicity between who we are in private and who we are when the world is watching.

  “Do you think less of me?” I ask.

  “No. Never,” she says. Of course.

  “Still want to marry me?” I ask.

  “Yes, and before I start to show, please,” she says.

  “Your wish is my command,” I say. They’re the last words we speak before we fall asleep.

  JUDGEMENT

  HAYES

  TWO WEEKS LATER.

  “Thank God, that’s over,” Confidence says. She steps into my side and slips her arms around my waist. We step out of Kingdom’s office building and out into the bright afternoon sun. The building is casting a shadow onto the big granite courtyard where overworked employees come to escape the air conditioning and their computers for a few minutes.

  “Yes, it was ugly for a second at the end, but it’s done,” I agree.

  “Will your uncle be okay?” she asks. Bleeding heart.

  “He’s going to be just fine. I think retirement in exile on his ranch in the beautiful Texas hardly amounts to hard time for all of the shit he’s pulled over the last year,” I say.

  We settled the case today. Kingdom paid damages that were negotiated by Amelia and Wilde Law. The Foundation established a Project School Bell that will deploy mobile classrooms to neighborhoods that are recovering from the flood so their children can continue to go to school close to home while their schools are being renovated. It’s the first in a string of programs that the foundation will fund over the next few months as part of its commitment to the city of Houston. Some of them are being done in conjunction with Wilde Law. When I think about Wilde—and Remi—my stomach contracts painfully. I still don’t know how to tell him that his father is my father. And that his father may not be dead after all.

  “Hayes?” Confidence calls my name and bumps me with her hip. I look down at her, and she’s got a concerned look on her face.

  “Yes, my love?”

  “You okay? You blanked out for a minute,” she says.

  “Yeah.” I shake my head to clear it. “Just thinking that we’ve got a lot of work to do. But at least now, I can do it without Thomas around.”

  “Looking for ways to undermine you,” she adds. We start toward my car that’s idling on the curb. “The car will take you back to work, if you want,” I tell her.

  “Yeah, that would be great.” She rocks up on her heels and presses a kiss to my mouth.

  “Thanks for being here today. For being here every day.” I circle my arm around her waist and kiss her back.

  “Hayes,” Gigi says from in front of us. She stands up from the bench she’s been sitting on. My heart hurts to see her. I haven’t let myself think too much about her. Last night when Confidence asked me to talk to her, I’d said no. I had nothing to say. She gave birth to me, but that didn’t make her my mother.

  I’d said it so flippantly last night, but when I see her standing in front of me, I know it’s not that simple. Like a reel of film on a screen, flashes of our life together in Positano run through my mind. Our fights. The first time we picked figs from the tree we planted together. How she slept in my bed with me the night before I left for college and talked to me all night about growing up in Rivers House.

  My stomach churns, and I slide my eyes to Confidence who has gone very still beside me.

  “Gigi, why are you here?” I ask her. I don’t want to do this in public.

  “Because you are,” she says simply. She looks tired. And for the first time, I can see age creeping along her pale, drawn face. Her hands are clutched in front of her and she looks so frail.

  “Listen, can we talk—”

  “You’re dead, Rivers.” A loud voice booms over the courtyard, and we all turn back to Smith Street to see Barry Jimenez walking toward me, a pistol in his trembling hand pointed in my general direction.

  “Oh my God, it’s Barry,” Confidence calls just as the first shot rings out. I grab both women to put them behind me and hustle them into the building. The armed security man is already rushing out, and after a second shot, Barry is tackled to the ground.

  But something happens, and Gigi doesn’t end up behind me. Instead, she slumps against me and cries out in pain.

  “Gigi,” I call out and let go of Confidence to lay Gigi on the ground. Her light blue dress is soaked with blood that’s gushing out of a small wound in her shoulder. I pull my tie off and knot it around her arm and press my hand to the wound. She winces.

  “We need an ambulance!” I hear Confidence screaming in the background, but it’s muted by the sound of the blood that’s rushing through my ears.

  Gigi grabs my hand and pulls me down to her. “Hayes,” she groans, and her eyelids flutter.

  “Oh no you fucking don’t.” I shake her and her eyes open.

  “Don’t use that kind of language, Hayes, especially not in public,” she says weakly.

  “Well don’t you fucking close your eyes after you’ve been shot!” I shout at her.

  She laughs weakly. Now I can see how much I look like her.

  “God, Gigi.” I shake my head in denial that this is happening.

  “Listen to me, Hayes. I know I wasn’t your mother in your heart, but in mine, it’s all I’ve ever been. You have been my every prayer, every dream, every hope. All of my love has always been yours. All I want is for you to be the man you were born to be,” she says.

  “Don’t talk like you’re going to die. I’m still pissed at you,” I say.

  She reaches up to pat my cheek. Her bloody hand is sticky against my face. “Of course you are. You’re a Rivers.” And then her eyes close.

  EPILOGUE 1

  GIGI

  “Just rest, Gigi,” Hayes whispers down at me. His big hand smooths the hair off my face and I have to stop myself from nestling into his touch. I haven’t earned that. It’s too soon. I know that what happened outside his office is why he’s here. I hope it means that I’ll be able to persuade him to stay. To give me a chance to ear
n it.

  “I—” My throat is parched. I had a tube inserted while I was in surgery and the words I want to say are caught there.

  “Save your voice, we’ll have time to talk when you’re better,” he says in a voice that’s more soothing than I can stand.

  His eyes, so like mine, search my face, and I know he’s looking for clues that he missed. That downward tilt on my right eye that mirrors his. The way my ears curve close and then pull away from my head. Maybe he’s even imagining how he’ll age. Will his jawline hold as firmly as mine? I lift my free hand and circle his wrist. I want to tell him that he gets this loving tenderness from his father. I want to tell him that he’s the greatest love of my life. That I only let them have him because I wanted more for him than I thought myself capable of giving. Instead, I just hold onto my son’s arm and let him look into his mother’s face properly, for the first time.

  The creak of the door opening behind us startles both of us. He turns and from the way his posture changes, I know it’s Confidence. He deflates a little because he knows that he can lean on her. I love that he’s found someone strong enough to help him carry the burden of holding our family together. I think that together, they’ll do a better job than my generation did.

  She comes to stand beside Hayes and wraps an arm around his waist. She squeezes him and he wraps an arm around her and holds her close. If I died, this would go down as one of the happiest moments of my life. My son is grown up, and even though I didn’t do everything right, I’ve helped him grow into a man who is capable of love and who’s not afraid to stake a claim on something he wants and then do the hard work it takes to make it his.

  “Gigi, how are you feeling?” she asks.

  I nod.

  “Remi’s here,” she says. My heart plunges to my toes and my lungs constrict. But I nod.

  “Are you sure you want to give it to him?” she asks. I let go of Hayes and pick up the letter I have tucked into my side on the bed. I rub the worn paper in between my fingers and nod again.

  She smiles, a pained but encouraging smile. “I’ll send him in. We’ll be outside.”