Evin's Fight (Southern Charmers Book 3) by Ahren Sanders (inspirational books for women .TXT) 📕

with paperwork, the empty room service tray to the side, and the empty glass on the table next to a bottle of gin.

When he turns, I fight my reaction.

“Holy shit,” Dante murmurs what I’m thinking.

Marco looks like he’s aged at least ten years since Sunday evening. His hair is unruly, his face unshaven, and his clothes a wrinkled mess. The bags under his eyes sag low and are a shade paler than his skin.

He scans over me, his mouth curving painfully. “Expected nothing less, but unnecessary. A man knows when he’s lost.”

“This is not a fucking game.”

“You are giving off some seriously pissed off vibes, but I won’t apologize. She’s my daughter.”

“She was your daughter before you cast her out. Now, she’s my wife, and I don’t deal well with power plays.”

“You think that was a power play? That was desperation. I had to sneak into a hospital under disguise to see my daughter. There’s no power anywhere in that.”

“She’s not your daughter,” I grind out.

He goes to the table, pouring a generous amount of gin, then turns back to the window. “Did she tell you she was a preemie? Five weeks early. Karen’s pregnancy with Caitlyn was the biggest and best surprise of my life. Natasha was an ornery baby, requiring all of Karen’s attention. When Caitlyn was born, I took over. The moment I saw her, my world changed in an unexplainable way. She was small, but a fighter. The nurse let me cut the cord and Caitlyn kicked me.” He chuckles, still staring out.

“Marco, I’m not here—”

“Marco,” he goes on like I didn’t speak. “I’ve never hated my name until two days ago after hearing it out of my baby’s mouth. Eight years ago, she called me Dad.”

“You don’t get to play the victim and you don’t deserve to be called Dad!” Dante spews.

“No, I don’t. Karen stepped up when things got easier. A mom and her daughters. That seemed normal. Those three ladies were my life, and I worked my ass off so they could all have whatever they wanted. Things were good, or so I thought. Teenage years struck my household like a category five hurricane. Karen assured me things were under control. Caitlyn had her dance and made it clear what she wanted in her future. The year Natasha graduated, it hit Karen hard.” He shakes his head, his disgust clear in the reflection. “Once again, so I thought. It’s crystal clear now. Somewhere along the way, Natasha realized her power and influence. Karen was part of it. With Caitlyn leaving for school soon, Karen wanted us to map a new future. Politics was her idea.”

“You can shut up now. I’m not interested in hearing how a grown man hands his balls to a woman and turns his back on his daughter,” I snap.

“Regardless of what you’ve been told, that is not what happened in my household. I hadn’t quite handed over my balls yet. Caitlyn’s senior year, Mrs. Canon came to me and explained the struggle they were having with the financial portion of the scholarships. I told her the money would not be a problem. My baby girl worked her ass off and she was going to her school of choice. Then I made a call, got her the audition at Julliard, certain she’d kill it. And she did. Like a true and upcoming politician, I played it to my advantage and worked a deal. Caitlyn was already a guaranteed acceptance; it was the financial aid in question. I pledged a grant in the amount of her education. When she turned down the opportunity to be closer to home, I kept my pledge, giving the money specifically to underprivileged dancers.”

Dante sucks in a breath, and I again force myself to stay stone-faced. That answers what he meant about Poppy’s financial freedom.

“Then I told my wife and daughter to get their shit together. Caitlyn gave up her chance to be close to family. It was time things smoothed out. Once again, still had my balls.” He turns back to the room, angled toward me.

“Whatever you say. There a point to all this reminiscing?”

“In college, when Isaac came into our lives, the way he looked at Caitlyn spoke volumes. He had his sights on a future with her.”

“Wrong thing to say,” I grumble. “Storytime is over.”

“I wasn’t as stupid or blind as you may think. Isaac’s infidelity and Natasha’s disloyalty burned in my blood. It went against everything in me to stay quiet,” he continues.

“Yet, you did, giving Poppy a weak apology with no action behind it.”

“You’re wrong. There was a lot of action behind it. Being a man, I knew why Isaac strayed. It was poor taste to jump into Natasha’s bed, but the temptation was obvious.”

“You stood by and let it happen, knowing what Natasha was doing.” Blistering anger claws at my skin. “You could have stopped it.”

“I could have intervened, but that would have defeated the purpose. Isaac was already living a life of temptation, and it was about to get worse. How he handled it would define his character. He fucked up, made a poor choice, but in doing so proved he was not, and never would be, good enough for Caitlyn. It took an inordinate amount of restraint to hold myself back when Caitlyn became aware of the betrayal.”

“Unbelievable. How can you call that action?”

“It gave me insight into what was happening. My wife played me in ways you can’t imagine, my oldest was still manipulating, and my youngest was pure as gold. The only innocent person in that scenario was hurting and didn’t deserve any of the bullshit.”

He tosses back the rest of his gin without flinching. “The Senate run was underway, my life was transforming. I thought about getting out but was in too deep. Donor support had been cast, money was exchanged, and agendas were set. What began as a quest to represent the people of my state was tearing apart my family. I protected Caitlyn