Broken Hate: Westbrook Blues Book 3 by Mpofu Thandiwe & Thandie

Author:Mpofu, Thandiwe & Thandie
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-03-17T16:00:00+00:00

He isn’t wrong. We were happy once. I was close to this man once. But now, I feel sick to my stomach that I was a pawn to him all along, and now he’s mad that he lost his pawn.

“Richard—”

“You know, I started suspecting that you weren’t mine when you started looking a lot like your mother’s brother,” he goes on, and I freeze.

“My mother’s brother?” I ask, a frown now on my face, replacing the panic and fear. “My mother only has a sister—who you’re intimately involved with.”

“You know about me and Sarah?” he asks, taken aback by that little admission.

“What? You think I wouldn’t find out that you were dipping your pen in family ink when you should have been visiting your supposed daughter after what happened to her?” Anger now rises in me with a ferocity I didn’t know I possessed.

“After what happened to you?” he repeats as if what I’m saying is outrageous. Then he throws his head back and laughs.

It’s hard, it’s cutting, and it makes me take another step back, watching him as if he’s going to attack me anytime. “What happened to you was a message—”

“Richard!”

I snap my head up after my mother's tersely spoken word, which feels like a reprimand and a warning all at the same time. My mother looks regal in her black ballgown with diamond studs i her earlobes that match the delicate necklace on her neck. She’s dressed to the nines, but the way she’s standing there, she looks like a warrior.

“Are you ready to go?” she asks him with a hard, cutting smile, completely ignoring me as if she doesn’t see me standing there.

I look back at Richard. I'm not sure how I missed it earlier, but he’s also dressed in a fine tux, the lapels draped in silk, his expensive dress shoes gleaming as if they’re both going to a dance or a fundraiser ball.

“Yes, of course.” Richard says, clearing his throat. Then I watch incredulously as he pulls himself together, straightening his bowtie and smoothing his jacket as if to tuck in the monster that he keeps tightly reigned in.

Who is this man? And why does it seem like my mother has him on a leash?

“Let’s keep this charade going, shall we?” he says smoothly, his voice now cultured and soft, but the look in his eyes as he glances from my mother to me—it promises something.

Something that I’m not quite sure I’m ready for nor will I like. My mother straightens herself, extending her delicate neck, watching him right back as if daring Richard to make a move.

The fuck?

“I’ll just get my notes, make sure this speech is epic,” Richard says and then disappears in the direction of his study, leaving my mother and I standing there, a tense silence hanging over us.

“Where do you think you’re going, young lady?” my mother demands, quirking an eyebrow at me.

“Out,” I say, releasing a breath I'd been holding. “Richard says you have a brother.” I watch her face.

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