radicalducati Chapter 23
Chapter 23
Kieran strode into his office with me close behind, his shoulders squared for confrontation. The room already held occupants—Father seated with rigid posture, Mother perched on the edge of her chair, and Celeste slumped against the far wall under a guard's watchful eye.
For half a heartbeat Father and Mother raked me for damage the way parents do after a crash—eyes skimming throat, wrists, the set of my mouth. Finding me unhurt seemed to take something out of both of them; my mother’s shoulders dropped a fraction, my father’s fingers loosened on the chair arm.
Kieran's gaze cut to Alex, one eyebrow lifting in silent question. His Beta's subtle nod toward Celeste explained the unexpected presence without words.
"Justice!" Celeste's voice cracked across the room before anyone else could speak, shrill and stripped of her usual honey coating. "Your Beta tried to murder me! Excessive aconite—he could have killed me! I demand—"
Her pallor confirmed the drug's impact, skin waxen under the office lights, pupils still dilated. But more striking than the physical effects was the unveiled fury twisting her features. No sweetness remained, no practiced innocence. The mask had shattered completely.
Relief flooded through me so fast it made my knees weak. I wouldn't have to admit to anyone that I'd been poisoning her systematically for weeks. Alex had done me an extraordinary favor by dosing her more severely, accelerating the timeline, forcing the truth to surface ahead of schedule.
"He assaulted me without provocation!" Celeste pressed on, voice rising toward hysteria. "Grabbed me, drugged me, left me unconscious on the floor like garbage while he helped this monster steal Harper away—"
Mother shook her head slowly, bewilderment creasing her forehead. "Celeste, lower your voice. You're not making sense."
"I'm making perfect sense!" Celeste's hands clenched into fists. "They attacked me! They kidnapped Harper! And you're sitting here like it's a negotiation instead of a crime!"
"Enough." Father's command sliced through the rising chaos, Beta authority vibrating in the single word. "Control yourself or leave."
Celeste's mouth snapped shut, but fury continued burning in her eyes, naked and vicious.
Kieran dismissed her entirely, attention fixing on Father as he settled behind his desk with the casual dominance of a man who knew exactly which room belonged to him. "Where's Weston? I expected the groom to accompany the bride's parents."
“Not here,” Father said, and the honesty of it changed the temperature. He inhaled, looked at Kieran full-on, then at me, then back to Kieran as if aligning columns. “Perhaps I’ve come to agree with pieces of what you told me earlier.” The admission cost him; I saw it in the tightness around his eyes. “I came without him deliberately. Emotion drives war. I will not let a tantrum start a conflict my grandchildren will pay for.”
The confession detonated like a grenade in the center of the room.
Mother surged from her chair, voice sharp with shock. "Richard, what are you saying? You're admitting Weston isn't fit to lead?"
Celeste’s voice sharpened into demand. “What are you talking about? Where is Weston? Why would you—Father, explain yourself. Explain why you’re siding with—”
"I said enough, Celeste!" Father didn't raise his voice, but the weight of decades as Beta silenced them both. He leaned forward, gaze never leaving Kieran's face. "You called my son-in-law unfit during your conversation with me earlier. Justify that assessment now. Tell me why Weston Hayes isn't suitable for Harper."
Kieran's laugh rolled through the office, triumph rather than humor coloring the sound. Alex echoed it from his position near the door, a shared satisfaction that made the hair rise on my arms.
"At minimum," Kieran said, each word deliberate and devastating, "Weston is wrong for Harper because she already belongs to someone else. Her fated mate. Her true mate." He paused, letting the revelation hang suspended. "Me."
Silence crashed down. Mother's hand flew to her mouth. Father went utterly still, only his eyes moving as they tracked between Kieran's face and mine, calculating implications at lightning speed.
Then Celeste's composure detonated completely.
"Oh, how wonderful!" The words dripped venom, her smile a rictus of malice. "The great love story reveals itself! How absolutely perfect!" She pushed off the wall despite the guard's warning hand. "Well then, why don't we just bring Harper's bastard daughter here? Complete the happy family! Abandon them both in Wolfhart territory and let the rest of us get on with our lives!"
The suggestion hung poisonous in the sudden, absolute silence.
The word bastard hung in the air like smoke from a gunshot. No one breathed.
My mother stood.
I had never seen Mother rise like that—no tremor, no preface, only a mother’s fury uncoiling into action as if it had been waiting in a corner for decades. Her hand cut a clean arc through light and landed on Celeste’s cheek with a crack loud enough to startle the guards.
Celeste reeled, one hand flying to her face, eyes wide and wet with shock—real shock, not theater.
"How dare you!" Mother's voice shook with emotion so raw it physically hurt to hear. "How dare you call your niece a bastard! That child is your blood, your family, and you speak of her like she's trash to be discarded!"
Father didn’t move. He looked carved. I watched my mother’s worldview shatter and fall piece by piece at her feet, the perfect daughter revealing the monster I had always known was there. The room held the sound of the slap like a bell after the strike.