Defiance of the Heart (Book 2)

by Monica James

  Things were going okay until Belle called. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask London what she had said, but he would have told me if he wanted me to know.

  With no other choice, I agree to try again, which is why I’m standing out on the sidewalk, hoping today doesn’t end in tears. London left what we did up to me again. After yesterday, I figure the less talking, the better. I want Emily to see I’m not here to take away her father. I want her to know that I want her in my life too.

  London has always had this uncanny ability to own the room he walks into, and it seems his magnetic pull is strong here in the Big Apple as well. He walks the sidewalk with Emily’s hand in his. The masses of people unconsciously part, making room for him. God, he is fucking epic.

  He makes a simple pair of ripped jeans, biker boots, and a V-neck T-shirt look like the latest trend from any runway in the world. His tattoos are vibrant, drawing in unsuspecting casualties who are curious to take a closer look.

  Emily looks lovely in a bright pink dress, her brown hair tied into two pigtails. I’m thankful they’re here because I wasn’t too sure if they’d come.

  When London and I lock eyes, the chaos fades into the background, and he’s all that matters. “Hi,” he says, his smile putting the bright sunshine to shame.

  “Hi,” I reply, so happy to see him. I could stare at him forever, but Emily is making eye contact with me, which is better than yesterday. “Hi, Emily.”

  She huddles into London’s side. “Hi.”

  I’m certain I can see London’s shoulders depress in relief.

  I don’t want to smother her or put her on the spot, which is why I’m holding three tickets to the ballet. She mentioned her love for ballet, so I figured this was the perfect thing to do. We can still spend the day together, but she isn’t put into a position where she needs to speak to me if she doesn’t want to.

  Baby steps. I can only hope this doesn’t backfire.

  I smile but don’t push. Instead, I turn and walk toward the theatre. The line is long, but I was able to get some pretty great tickets, and they allow us VIP entry. When Emily sees a poster of a ballerina, she looks up at London, eyes large.

  “Daddy! Are we going to the ballet?”

  Her enthusiasm warms my heart, but I don’t say anything. I give the concierge our tickets, who gestures for us to proceed upstairs.

  “Looks like it,” London replies, grinning when she shrieks in excitement.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” she admonishes, her grin almost blinding.

  He shrugs, looking at me over her head with nothing but gratitude swimming in his eyes. “I didn’t know until just now. Holland decided.” I’m still quiet, unsure how she’s going to respond. She simply looks at me with her mouth slightly parted in surprise.

  When I show the attendant our tickets, he leads us down the red velvet carpet and to the front row. We’re on the upper level, dead center, so the view is incredible.

  I walk into the row first and am expecting London to follow, but Emily follows me instead. After yesterday, I thought she’d do anything to avoid sitting near me, but clearly, I was wrong. However, I don’t make a fuss when I sit.

  We take our places, Emily sitting tall as she looks over the railing, mesmerized by the illuminated stage. The theatre is abuzz, as who doesn’t love a good ballet. When I go to read the playbill, Emily spins in her seat.

  I slowly turn my chin to look at her, anxious at what I’ll see. “The Nutcracker?” she exclaims, bouncing eagerly. “Are we seeing The Nutcracker?”

  I almost turn over my shoulder to ensure she’s talking to me and not someone else. “Yes?” I reply as a question, afraid she’s going to tell me she hates this particular ballet.

  But she does the complete opposite. “Oh, my god! This is my favorite ballet of all time!”

  Exhaling, I smile. “Good. Mine too.”

  “It is?” she asks, eyes as wide as saucers.

  “Yes, it sure is.” I begin to hum the infamous song associated with the ballet, and Emily claps loudly.

  “This is the best day. Ever!” She returns to her perch, leaning forward in her seat, arms braced across the railing as she absorbs her surroundings in awe.

  To say I’m relieved is an understatement. Risking a quick glance at London, I can see the relief runs both ways. “Thank you,” he mouths, a dimple pressed into his left cheek.

  I shake my head, as no thanks is needed.

  What he mouths next has me melting into goo. “I love you.”

  Before I have a chance to reply, the lights dim, and we settle into our seats. As the music begins, we get lost in the magic. I can only hope once the show is over with, that magic will follow us home.

  “Daddy, did you see her pirouette? She is so pretty.”

  “Yes, I saw. And you’re just as pretty as she is, baby,” London replies, smiling.

  That seems to be the common theme for us three because the moment the music started and the dancing commenced, our smiles couldn’t be wiped clean. Emily was practically dancing in her chair, her tiny arms swaying and mimicking the movements.

  She even turned to me, yanking on my arm in excitement. I tried not to make a big deal about it, but on the inside, I was pumping my fist in exhilaration.

  It’s now intermission, and we’re waiting in line to grab something to eat and drink. Emily is eyeing a mini nutcracker souvenir doll. If London doesn’t buy it for her, I will. Something that makes her smile so big is something she needs to own.

  London and I have been keeping our distance as the air is crackling around us. One touch, and I won’t be held accountable for my actions. He is just as relieved as I am, but beneath that, his love for me, if possible, feels like it’s grown.

  This is a big step for our relationship, but I would have tried anything to make this work because I will do anything for London. And I know he feels the same way about me.

  His cell chimes, snapping me from my love bubble.

  He reaches into his back pocket and presses the phone to his ear. It’s noisy, and I can tell he’s having a hard time hearing what the caller is saying. “Hang on, Pauly.” With cell in hand, he gestures with his chin over his shoulder that he’s going outside where it’s quieter. “I have to take this call. I won’t be long.”

  I look down at Emily who I assume will follow, but I almost fall flat on my face when she huddles closer to me. “I’ll stay here, Daddy. We don’t want to lose our place in line.”

  London’s stunned expression mirrors mine, but we don’t cause a scene.

  “Okay.” He kisses her atop her head, then nuzzles my cheek and kisses it. “You smell incredible,” he whispers into my ear, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from saying something unsuitable for young ears.

  He dashes off, leaving me to try my absolute hardest not to ogle his ass. The challenge is real. When he’s out of sight, I smile at a grinning Emily. I’m so busted.

  We wait in silence, as I still don’t want to force anything, but when I catch her continuing to eye that nutcracker doll, I can’t help myself. “How about I get the yellow one for myself, and you can have the red?”

  She spins, her pigtails swishing with the movement. “Really? I don’t have any money. We can wait until my daddy comes back.”

  “That’s okay. It’s my treat,” I reply. Emily squeals and catches me off guard when she throws her arms around my waist. She’s such a tiny thing, but she holds on tight.

  “Thank you.”

  Not wanting to spook her, I gently run my fingers through her soft hair. “My pleasure.” And just like that, something gives between us, and I feel like I can breathe again.

  Everything is going to be all right…says the blind fool.

  “What a small world.”

  The hair at the back of my neck stands on end, and instinctively, I shield Emily, moving her behind me. But it’s too late. He’s seen her.

  Lincoln is here, feet away, appearing smug and in control as he locks eyes wit
h me. My protectiveness over Emily has him realizing just who she is. But like the sadist that he is, he tortures me. “Who’s your little friend?”

  Is this the first time he’s seen her in the flesh? No doubt, he’s seen pictures, but actually breathing the same air as her is a completely different thing.

  He doesn’t seem touched or emotional. This is his daughter, for crying out loud. He looks at her like a chess piece, one he will use to win this game.

  My arm is a barricade, preventing him from coming anywhere near Emily, but she doesn’t know that danger lurks ahead. “Hi, I’m Emily. Are you Holland’s friend too?” she says from around my torso, her little hands locked around my waist.

  Her comment tugs at my heartstrings because she’s just affirmed we’re friends, but Lincoln doesn’t care for sentiments. “Nice to meet you, Emily. And yes, I’m Holland’s friend. A very good friend, actually.”

  “Enough,” I snarl between clenched teeth. I am hoping to appeal to any last shred of decency he has left. But he doesn’t have any. He never did.

  He drops to a crouch, so he’s eye level with her. My arm is still extended back, and I’ll be damned if I move an inch. Emily is still guarded behind me, but will she see something familiar in Lincoln that will cause her to break free?

  “Aren’t you a precious little thing. Looks just like her mommy, I bet.”

  Bile rises, and I have the urge to kick him in the balls. But I don’t want to cause a scene. “Leave. Now,” I warn, but he peers up at me and laughs.

  “Leave? I was just getting acquainted with your little friend. Are you enjoying the show, Emily?”

  I want to kill him. With my bare hands. He doesn’t care if she’s enjoying the show. He only cares what this fateful meeting has done. My worst fears are transpiring before me, and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it.

  “Yes, I love it! Are you?” Bless her naïvety. She’s only trying to be sociable with my supposed “friend.” When she attempts to move closer to him, I gently coax her back. She isn’t going anywhere near this son of a bitch.

  “Oh, yes,” he purrs, sizing her up like prey. “However, I feel the second half is going to be all the more rewarding.”

  It’s a double-edged sword. He finally has the upper hand and will do anything to ensure it stays that way. “Come on, Emily. Let’s go.”

  Lincoln rises slowly, his arrogance suffocating. “It’s okay. I was just leaving. It was nice to meet you, Emily. I’ll see you tonight, Holland?”

  “Tonight?” I curl my lip, disgusted.

  He nods as he adjusts his silk blue tie. “Yes, did you forget about our meeting? We have a lot to discuss.” There was no fucking meeting, but there is now. “I can always wait here.” He peers around, no doubt searching for London.

  I will spare him the pain of seeing this asshole. “Okay, fine. Meet me at my office. Seven p.m.” If looks could kill, he’d be a smoldering pile of ashes.

  “Excellent. I’ll see you then. Enjoy the show, Emily. Maybe I’ll see you again.” There is no maybe about it. Now that he’s seen her, he will ensure to use her any way that he can. I feel sick to my stomach, but I stand, unbending.

  When he goes to touch her, I slap his hand away, pressing us chest to chest. I don’t care that he’s towering over me. I will fight with everything that I have. “Don’t you fucking touch her,” I snarl, pinning him with a glower.

  He raises his hands in mock surrender, grinning a reptilian smirk. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” He walks backward, hands still raised, but his smugness is sickening. I don’t take my eyes off him and only breathe a sigh of relief after I watch him descend the stairs.

  My entire body is shaking as adrenaline courses through my veins. This is bad. Even though I don’t know what he wants to discuss, I can only imagine it can’t be good.

  Cradling my forehead, I attempt to pull it together, but I can’t. I can’t shake this ominous feeling that’s been lingering for days. And now, it’s been amped up tenfold.

  “Are you okay?” Emily’s sweet voice has me reining in my impending breakdown, not wanting to worry her.

  “I’m fine,” I reply with a strained smile. “How about we get those nutcrackers?”

  Emily peers up at me, eyes narrowed. She doesn’t buy it, but she doesn’t say a word.

  “Sorry that took so long.” London’s voice instantly soothes the panic, but it’s going to take a lot more this time to calm the firestorm within. “Everything okay?” he asks when I stand rigid, Lincoln’s smug face flashing before me.

  No, everything is not okay. But I squash down my concerns. “Yes, fine,” I lie, needing to figure out what’s going on before I share anything with him.

  He kisses my forehead, then does the same with Emily.

  When it’s our turn to be served, London orders drinks and some snacks, but I step toward the counter, digging into my purse. “Two of those please,” I ask the attendant, pointing at the nutcracker dolls.

  When I pass her, her doll, she hugs it to her chest. “Thank you. I love it so much.”

  Emily’s jubilant smile almost brings tears to my eyes, and it confirms what I always knew to be true—I’ll do anything to protect the people I love.

  It’s 7:05 p.m.

  He’s late. He’s never late.

  Lincoln has done this with intent, to keep me waiting to establish that he has the upper hand. Just another power play on his behalf. Reaching for my coffee, I suddenly wish I had something stronger.

  Today would have been perfect had we not seen Lincoln. Emily cradled her nutcracker for the whole show, eyes wide as she watched the ballerinas twirl and jump to the music. When the ballet was over, she threw her arms around me, thanking me.

  It’s hard to believe she’s the same little girl who wouldn’t even look at me yesterday, but we bonded over our love for ballet. London watched on, grinning from ear to ear. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that happy.

  When he asked if I was free for dinner, I lied and said I had to go into the office to catch up on work. A small piece of me died with the dishonesty. We’ve been surrounded by nothing but deceit, and to contribute to that deception made me feel like I’d just sold a piece of my soul to the devil.

  And when my door opens and in saunters Lincoln, I wonder if maybe that’s exactly what I’ve done.

  The urge to throat punch him overwhelms me, but I refrain from using violence…for now. “You have five minutes,” I snap, not bothering to mask my revulsion that he’s here.

  He closes the door, an arrogant chuckle leaving him. “Now, now, is that any way to talk to your partner in crime?”

  His comment throws me for a loop, and I recoil in my seat, shaking my head. “We are not partners in anything.”

  “Always so stubborn,” he calmly says. “If only you’d realized I’m here to help.” He unbuttons his gray suit jacket, then takes a seat in front of me. He rests his ankle on his knee and casually leans back into the leather.

  “What do you want?” I am done with pretenses.

  His reptilian smirk makes my skin crawl. “I have something you want. And you have something I want.”

  “I want nothing from you,” I spit, leaning forward, not intimidated in the slightest.

  “I beg to differ,” he counters, steepling his long fingers in front of him. When he’s satisfied my patience is wearing thin, he continues. “Do you believe in fate? Destiny?”

  “Are you high?” I ask sincerely because not once during our relationship did he ever speak of such things. He said such talk was for tie-dye-wearing, long-haired hippies. So the fact he’s asking me now piques my interest. But I play it down.

  His hoarse laugh reveals just how much he is enjoying this. “I always believed you to be mine. No matter what you think of me, it’s the truth.”

  “I think we are past truths, don’t you think? Tick tock,” I say, pointing at my silver wrist watch.

  He doesn’t appreciate my insolence, but what was he expecting?
“Fine, have it your way. Today was an example of serendipity at its best, proving that you are, in fact, my destiny.”

  My heart begins to race.

  “What are the odds I would meet you…and my daughter at the ballet?” His brown eyes narrow as he examines what his words have done to me. But I play it cool even though I’m dying inside.

  “She’s a darling little thing, isn’t she? You seem quite attached to her.”

  In and out. I measure my breathing. He cannot know I am moments away from losing my shit.

  “She’s a great kid, no thanks to you. Now stop wasting my time. What do you want?”

  A tic appears beneath his left eye. A small win for me.

  Inhaling, he removes his mask, and I see him for the cruel, conniving bastard he is. “I’ve been given a promotion. Vice president,” he states proudly, and I wonder what he did or, rather, whom to be given that opportunity.

  “That’s a lovely story,” I say, unmoved, “but what does it have to do with me?”

  He appears hurt. Was he expecting a congratulatory speech and a pat on the back? I know how much this means to him, but I don’t care.

  “As you know, it’s a huge deal, and certain expectations come with such an accomplishment.” I wait for him to continue. He does. “I must attend a few social gatherings, and I cannot do that alone.”

  “I’m sure one of your whores would be more than happy to accompany you,” I answer, deadpanning him.

  He returns the glower. “They aren’t my fiancée.”

  “Excuse me?” I blink once, stunned. “I am not that either. I returned your ring.”

  When he leans to the right and digs into his back pocket, I swallow down my horror. “This ring?” The object in question catches the light, almost blinding me with its foulness. “You will wear it again.”

  That’s it.

  Shooting upright, I grip the edge of the desk and lunge forward. “Why on earth would I do that?”

  He isn’t unsettled in the slightest. If anything, he looks amused. “Because I can’t have you on my arm without your ring. To the outside world, we are still very much engaged. And I won’t allow you to ruin this for me.”