Free Crescendo by Jeffe Kennedy Page B

shrugged, nonchalant, but she knew him better than that. Tension rode his shoulders. “Doesn’t surprise me that he tried. Sanclaros always were snakes in their dealings. What does surprise me is that you agreed to marry the boy in the first place. Doesn’t sound like you. Your mother, at least, taught you to be smarter than that.”
    â€œI thought you counted Domingo as a friend.”
    He made a rude noise. “Of course not.”
    â€œThey visited all the time.”
    â€œKeep your friends close and your enemies closer.” He sipped his coffee. “That, however, does not mean marry the bastards.”
    â€œAre the Sanclaros your enemies?” She pressed the issue, needing to know where he stood in all of it.
    He narrowed his eyes. “What did they tell you?”
    â€œIt’s what I found out on my own. Was Angelia Sanclaro your mother—my grandmother?”
    Her father blew out a long breath and scrubbed his hands through his thinning hair. “Your mother didn’t want you to know.”
    â€œShe knows, then.”
    He nodded, popped the top off his coffee, and added another sugar packet. “I’d say she’d hate me for telling you this, but she already does. You want the full truth?”
    Part of her wanted to stand up and walk out. Her new self, Christine, wouldn’t let her. Not trusting her voice, she nodded.
    â€œYou got it right—though how you found out, I don’t know. I didn’t know about it until after you were born. You know how the family always acted like my mother’s name couldn’t be spoken? My father was never right. Heartbreak, they all said. Growing up, I learned not to ask.”
    She hadn’t expected to feel sympathy for him, her blustery father. But she’d never thought about the little boy he’d been. How cold his childhood must have been.
    â€œOnly after you were born and Sanclaro showed up with the documents did we both find out the truth about our pasts.”
    â€œBoth?” she echoed.
    â€œYou know that foundation that raised your mother? Sanclaro funded it. They gathered up all the Sanclaro by-blows and kept track of them. They practically threw us together. Your mother called it cross-breeding when she found out.” He grimaced, shaking his head. “She was mighty pissed.”
    â€œWow. I can just imagine.” The memories of their angry shouting matches reverberated in her memory.
    â€œShe made me promise not to tell you.” Carlton Davis held her gaze. “I wanted to, but she hated the Sanclaros. She felt you were better off not knowing. Especially when Domingo first proposed the engagement. I’m breaking that promise now.”
    She nodded, a knot in her throat. “But we’re not . . . engaged by the families, are we?”
    â€œDon’t be an idiot!” Her father reined himself in, wiping the words from the air. “This isn’t a feudal society. You’re not chattel, are you?”
    She smiled weakly. “You always joked about it . . .”
    He barked out a laugh. “That Sanclaro is a tenacious bastard. I wasn’t above stringing him along. I figured if we teased you enough, you’d be contrary and go the other direction.”
    â€œSo you never wanted me to marry Roman?”
    â€œYou think I want to hand away legal rights to what I’ve built?”
    Ah yes. Always back to the money.
    Then he did surprise her. “Besides, he’s not good enough for you.”
    â€œHow do you know?”
    â€œHow do I know?” He laughed and pointed at her. “Because I know you. And you want more out of life than marriage to some punk-ass junior exec who’ll expect you to stay in the kitchen and pop out babies. I might not have given you cookies, but I did raise you better than that.”
    He had, she realized. Despite everything, he had at least given her that.
    â€œYou’re right. I never wanted to marry