Chapter 5 - Unraveling Lies
Z
The air inside the private terrace outside the Fairmont ballroom was freezing, but Sloan barely felt the cold. She stood near the stone balustrade, the black paper fluttering in her trembling hands, her eyes fixed on the black-and-white photograph.
The heavy glass door opened behind her. Griffin stepped out, adjusting his tuxedo jacket, a broad smile on his face that quickly faded when he saw her posture.
"Sloan? What’s wrong?" he asked, walking toward her, his voice full of concern. "The girls are inside eating dessert with Arthur. What are you doing out here in the cold?"
Sloan turned around slowly. The glowing light from the chandeliers inside cast deep shadows across her face. "When did you find out I was pregnant ten years ago, Griffin?"
Griffin stopped in his tracks. The color visibly drained from his face. "What?"
"Don't lie to me!" Sloan shouted, her voice trembling with a mixture of rage and profound heartbreak. She held up the piece of paper. "When did you know?"
Griffin stared at the document in her hand. He didn't reach for it. He didn't deny it. And that silence shattered the last piece of Sloan’s heart.
"You told me you didn't know," she whispered, tears spilling over her eyelashes. "You stood in my hospital room three weeks ago and told me you had no idea you were a father for eight years. You wept! You looked me in the eye and said you missed everything!"
"Sloan, listen to me—" Griffin took a step forward, his hands raised, his voice desperate.
"Did you know?" she screamed, stepping back. "Answer the question, Griffin! Did you know I was pregnant before I left Seattle?!"
Griffin closed his eyes, taking a shuddering breath. When he opened them, the painful truth lay bare. "Yes."
Sloan stumbled back against the stone railing, gasping as if she had been struck in the chest. "Oh my god."
"It’s not what you think!" Griffin pleaded, closing the distance between them, though he refrained from touching her. "Two weeks before you left, my mother had hired a private investigator to follow you. She intercepting your medical records from your routine checkup. She brought the file to my office."
"And you said nothing?" Sloan cried out, her voice breaking. "You let your mother manipulate me, you let her show me that marriage agreement, knowing I was carrying your children?!"
"I didn't know it was twins!" Griffin yelled back, emotion pouring out of him like a ruptured dam. "I only knew you were pregnant! I raged at my mother. I tore that office apart! I told her I was going to marry you that very weekend, regardless of what she or the board thought!"
"Then why didn't you come to me?!"
"Because I went to your apartment that night to propose to you!" Griffin shouted, tears glistening in his emerald eyes. "I had a ring in my pocket, Sloan! I drove to your place like a madman, ready to give up my company, my inheritance, my family name—everything! But when I got to your street..."
Griffin broke off, his voice cracking, choked with a decade of buried pain.
"What?" Sloan whispered, terrified of the answer.
"I saw you," Griffin whispered, looking at her with raw agony. "I saw you sitting in a car with a man. He was holding your hand. You were smiling at him. You looked so peaceful, so happy, so completely relieved."
Sloan blinked, confused. "What man? I didn't... Griffin, I didn't have anyone else!"
"It was your cousin, Mark!" Griffin let out a harsh, self-deprecating laugh. "I didn't know it was your cousin at the time! I had never met him! I saw a man comforting you, kissing your cheek, helping you load suitcases into his trunk! And then I saw my mother’s limousine parked down the block."
Griffin covered his face with his hands, his broad shoulders shaking. "I thought... I thought my mother had already gotten to you. I thought you had taken a settlement from her and were leaving town with someone else. I thought you didn't want me. I thought the baby wasn't even mine."
Sloan stood frozen, the terrible, tragic misunderstanding unfolding before her like a nightmare.
"My cousin Mark was helping me move to Portland," Sloan said quietly, the realization dawning on her. "He drove up from Oregon because I was having panic attacks. I was so terrified of your mother... I called him crying, and he came to pick me up."
"I stood across the street in the rain," Griffin said, lowering his hands, his face pale and tear-stained. "I watched you drive away. I was too proud, too hurt, too arrogant to walk up to that car and ask you the truth. My mother had planted the seed of doubt in my mind, and I let it destroy me."
"So you let me go," Sloan whispered.
"I thought I was letting you be happy!" Griffin stepped closer, grabbing her hands tightly. "By the time I realized my mother had lied about everything—by the time I found out Mark was your cousin and that you were alone—you had completely vanished into Portland. I spent eight years looking for a woman I thought hated me, not knowing you had given birth to my daughters!"
Sloan looked down at their joined hands. The anger that had consumed her minutes ago was suddenly replaced by a heavy, hollow tragedy.
Two people, young and terrified, manipulated by an evil, arrogant woman, destroyed by pride and silence.
"Who gave me this letter tonight, Griffin?" Sloan asked softly, looking up at him. "Who wanted me to find out like this?"
Griffin’s expression hardened, the pain in his eyes hardening into pure tungsten steel. "Genevieve. Her father had access to my mother’s old private investigator files."
Before Sloan could respond, the terrace doors flew open.
Arthur ran out, his face pale, breathing heavily. "Mr. Drake! You need to come inside immediately!"
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Griffin snapped his head around. "What is it, Arthur?"
"It's the girls, sir," Arthur said, his voice trembling with terror. "A woman claiming to be a family representative just escorted them out through the service elevator. The security feed shows Genevieve Mercer’s car leaving the garage."
