Own Me (The Wolf Hotel, #5)

by K.A. Tucker

Alarm flashes across Violet’s expression. “So you know who I am?” Henry pauses as if to consider his answer. “I don’t think you’re Scott’s daughter.” “You’re right, I’m not.” She hesitates. “I’m yours.” Henry blinks several times, the only sign that she’s caught him off guard. “So now we’re playing this game, are we?” he says, his voice edged with cold calm. “It’s not a game. You’re my father.”

“And yet I was your uncle only minutes ago.” I study her more closely. Her blue eyes … Her jawline … The shape of her nose … A sick feeling swirls in my stomach as a voice inside my head confirms what I saw but couldn’t see. She looks like him.

“I don’t know Crystal.” Violet blinks furiously against the well of tears forming. “I just wanted to meet my asshole father once, that’s all.” Her voice cracks with emotion. Henry’s shoulders sink, his rage seeming to evaporate. “I’m sorry, Violet, but you have the wrong man.” “Are you Henry Wolf?” “Yes, but I am not your father.” “Oh, yeah?”

“What does it say?” I ask. Henry shakes his head absently as he speed-reads through the first page. And then his face blanches. Oh my God. “It’s true?” My jaw drops with my stomach. He doesn’t need to answer me with words. His expression says it all.

I edge in closer as Henry waits for an answer, my pulse pounding in my ears. “So, it’s true? Violet’s your daughter?” Henry’s eyes flitter to me, a look in them that I’ve never seen before—a mixture of shock, confusion, and possibly hurt. “I don’t know.” But I know. I saw it in Violet’s delicate features. The similarity.

Henry has a child. Unbeknownst to him, but a woman out there is the mother of his child. I feel like I’ve been punched in the stomach, and I’m sure it’s nothing compared to what he must feel.

I bite my tongue against the question burning to escape. Who does the love of my life, the future father of my children, already share a child with? He must sense it lingering there. “Her mother’s name is Audrey,” he whispers, so softly I nearly miss it. “Was she a girlfriend?” “I wouldn’t call her that.”

“My sophomore year English teacher at Hartley.” “Your teacher? Henry!” I gasp, trying to process this. “How old was she?” “Twenty-nine.” My mouth hangs as I do the math. “She was fourteen years older than you.” “So what? I’m eleven years older than you.” “It’s so not the same. What that was is … is … illegal!”

“She was smoking hot. Sexy and confident.” “And that makes it okay?” He sighs. “No.” “What would a twenty-nine-year-old, smoking hot, sexy, confident woman want with a fifteen-year-old boy? There’s no way you looked like this”—I wave a hand at his chiseled body—“at that age.” “I was a lot scrawnier,” he admits. “But I had my charm. And she was a good teacher.” A secretive smile touches his lips, as if he’s reminiscing. “She’s sick.”

“We fucked a few times. Once, on her desk, during a detention she gave me”—another smirk as he remembers and I quietly seethe—“and then I left for the summer and when I came back, she was gone. She was no longer on the staff.” He shrugs. “I didn’t think anything of it, but I should have known.” “You should have known that she was pregnant by her fifteen-year-old student?” Just saying it out loud makes my face twist with disgust. “No, that my father was somehow involved in her leaving.”

I scan the legal jargon but am quickly overwhelmed. “What does all this mean?” “It’s an agreement for financial support as long as Audrey makes no contact with me and I never find out about this child’s existence. Ever.” “So, all these years, he knew he was a grandfather. He knew you were a father, and he never told you.” William Wolf looked his son in the eye and lied by omission. “I’m sure he thought he was protecting me.”

Eerie silence hangs throughout the penthouse. And here I thought planning a wedding around Mama’s demands would be my biggest challenge in the coming months. Now it seems I’m about to become a stepmother, and to a girl who is only six years younger than me, no less. “What are you going to do?” “What am I supposed to do? I can’t have a daughter.” And yet you do.

Henry Wolf, who always has a plan, who moves forward at breakneck speed, hurdling over problems to get to his destination, is facing something he doesn’t know how to tackle. A fifteen-year-old girl.

“It doesn’t matter what my father did or didn’t do in the past. He’s gone and I’m here, and I have a child I now know about. I can’t ignore that, even if I might want to.” Henry collects his wallet and watch from the dresser. “I’ll be back later.” “Wait, you’re going now?” I check the bedside clock. It’s a quarter to ten on a Sunday morning. “It’ll be noon by the time I get there.” “Right.”

Henry is running out the door to meet the mother of his child, his horny teenage conquest. And he’s doing it without me. No, he’s not. “Give me fifteen minutes to get ready.” His jaw tenses. “I think it’s best if—” “I’m coming with you, Henry. Don’t you dare try to tell me otherwise.”

“Mrs. Robinson found a cute little neighborhood to hide in.” Henry’s eyebrow arches, but there’s no amusement in the look. “I didn’t agree to you coming so you could attack her. If you can’t be civil—” “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“No, she’s never been married from what he could see.” “Because her boyfriends still have a curfew.” “Abbi …” “Best behavior! I swear.” I hold up my hands in surrender. “Yes, I remember your best behavior with Kiera at my father’s funeral. I believe you tried to crush her hand.” “After what she put you through, she deserved it.” “Regardless, this is not like that.”

“Violet showed up at our place in Manhattan last night and then took off. She was upset,” I explain. “We would like to meet her grandparents and make sure Violet is okay.” “I have people who can get me the address within the hour, but if Violet is in any danger and we’ve wasted time finding her …” Henry lets the unspoken threat hang in the air, his teeth clenched with frustration. I give his biceps a warning squeeze. He’s usually smoother than this.

“But she gave it to us and now we’re here.” I collect his hand. “These people just lost their daughter, and you have no idea what story Violet gave them about where she was last night, so be nice.” “I’m always nice.”

“Why would Violet come to you, though? How does our granddaughter know you?” Gayle asks. “She doesn’t know me.” Gayle frowns. “Then why would she go to Manhattan to see you?” Howard stirs sugar into his teacup, the silver clanking on the china. “I think it’s obvious. He’s Violet’s father. Aren’t you, Henry?”

“Yes, apparently I am. Something I found out twelve hours ago.” The only sound in the kitchen for several long moments is the slow drip … drip … drip of the kitchen faucet.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Henry, how old are you?” “Thirty-two.” “Thirty-two. But that’s …” Gayle is surely doing the math in her head. “Well, that’s not possible. Violet is fifteen. That would mean …” Her voice fades, unable to utter the words. “That’s not possible, is it?” Again, she looks to her husband for an answer that explains her fears.

“It doesn’t matter. Wherever she found it, she found it. Now she knows who her father is, and now I know that I have a child.”

“We came here to make sure Violet made it back safely after she left us,” I say. “We didn’t even know she’d left. With Audrey passing away, we didn’t think twice about saying yes when she asked if she could sleep over at her friend’s house, and now we find out this? Who knows where she could be!” “Do you have a way to message her?” I ask gently. “Like, on a cell phone?”

He smirks. “Smart on Audrey’s part. I don’t want Violet turning into that either, especially now that she knows who I am.” Gayle cocks her head. “And who are you, dear?” It’s such an innocent and honest question, asked by a sweet old lady. “Are you an actor?” Henry chuckles.

“Hello, Violet,” Henry says in a calm voice and stands. She stumbles back a step. “What are you doing here?” “We have some things to discuss.” She shakes off her backpack, letting it fall to the floor with a thump. “How did you find me? I thought you had no idea who I was.” “I didn’t. But there is nothing I can’t find out, Violet. Remember that.” I groan inwardly. That sounded like a threat. “Except that you have a daughter, apparently.” There’s no lack of bitterness in her tone. “I didn’t know I was supposed to be looking.”

Violet’s chin lifts. “So you believe me now?” “I read through that contract, and yes, it appears you were telling the truth.” “Really? You sure this isn’t part of some sinister plan to steal all your precious money?” she spits out. “If you had any idea the things that have been going on in my life lately, you might understand why I jumped to such a conclusion.” “Violet, why don’t you come and sit down.”

And yet now I see him differently than I did yesterday. Not worse. If anything, more human, more capable of mistakes. More vulnerable. Henry is a father.

“She needs time, Henry. And then she’ll realize how lucky she is to have you in her life.” Is that what Henry wants, though—to be in this girl’s life? He hasn’t hinted where his head is at.

“Thank you for letting me come with you today.” “Let?” Finally, I hear a smile in his voice. “You surprised me. You’re not usually that forceful.” “And you don’t usually give in so easily. Why did you?” He pauses on his answer. “Because you tend to get insecure about women from my past, and I didn’t want to give you time to sit here and create something in your head that doesn’t exist.” “I barely slept last night,” I admit sheepishly. “I figured as much. I know you, Abbi.”

“Where’s your ring? Having regrets about marrying me already?” he says lightly, but I don’t miss the edge in his voice. “It’s on the bedside table.” I lay another kiss against his skin. “And don’t be silly.” He turns in my arms so we’re facing ea...

“But I want everyone I care about to be there when I marry the man I am hopelessly in love with.”

“What am I going to find out about next? Your secret foot fetish?” The hint of a smile creeps out. “Funny.” “There’s no need to be ashamed.” “Sorry to disappoint.” “Okay, fine.” Humor seems to be working on his mood, at least. “If it’s not that, what else could there be …” I tap my chin in mock thought. “Wait, I know. Of course, it’s so obvious.” I pause for effect. “Porn.” Henry’s eyes twinkle. “You think I’ve been in porn.” “Honestly? I wouldn’t be that shocked.”

“What would it be called? Let me guess … The Wolf of Porn Street?” His deep chuckle echoes around the shower stall. “Too obvious, right? How about The Big Bad Wolf Gets Pegged by Little Red Riding Hood? No, that’s too long. How about Little Red Pegging Hood—ah!” I squeal as he spins me around, his foot sliding between mine to force my stance wider. “Tell me, where did you learn about pegging?”

“So was picking you up from Greenbank in a helicopter, but you didn’t complain then.” I search for a retort but can’t come up with a suitable one. Besides, that stunt was so worth it when I saw the look of defeat on Jed’s face. Henry sighs. “You’re marrying me, Abigail. You need to get used to a certain lifestyle.”

“It is unfair,” I agree. “But diseases don’t care what’s fair. They don’t care if you’ve been a good person, or which god you pray to, or if you believe in one at all. They don’t care who you leave behind.”

“Eighty-four. Both of them. They had Audrey later in life.” “How do you …” My question fades as it dawns on me. “You had Dyson look into them.” “Of course I did,” he says matter-of-factly. “They’re legal guardians of my child. I needed to make sure there weren’t going to be any surprises.”

“Please, tell me, what’s my role here? Because I’ve been asking myself that all day, and I can’t find the answer. I don’t know the first fucking thing about being a parent.” “No one does when they start out—” “This is not starting out. This is having a teenage girl dropped at my doorstep. Is that what you want? A fifteen-year-old—a stranger—suddenly living with us?”

“This isn’t about what I want.” I would never want Henry to see me as the person coming between him and his daughter.

His chest lifts with a deep breath. “Children terrify me.” He says it softly, like a confession. “Which children?” “All of them.” My stomach clenches. Is this where he tells me that he’s changed his mind, that he doesn’t want them anymore? No. I stop myself from heading down that path and instead ask, “What’s so scary about them?” He pauses. “The way they can change your life in a heartbeat. One minute they don’t exist and then they do, and everything suddenly feels different.” “Different, but not bad, right?” I hold my breath. “No, not bad,”

“You didn’t have time to ease into the idea of this. There was no nine-month countdown, no cute little helpless bundle.” Henry got a furious teenager in muddy Chucks, throwing a contract at his feet before storming off. “She’s been alive for almost sixteen years and I had no fucking clue. Sixteen years.”

“How many times did that kid ask about her father? How many times did she wonder why I didn’t care?” My heart aches for him as he struggles with his conscience. “That wasn’t your fault.” “She seems to think it is.” “No. She’s angry. Probably angrier at her mother than you, but you’re here and Audrey’s not, so you’re going to get the brunt of it.”

“This wasn’t your fault.”

He’s silent for a few minutes. “She’s a stranger to me and yet she’s mine. She came from me.” “She won’t be a stranger forever.” I smooth my palm over his bare skin. “Not if you make the effort to get to know her.”

“Hey.” “Hey, yourself.” His tone softens immediately. “I haven’t heard your voice in forever.” “It’s only been a couple of weeks.” My cheeks flush with the reminder of the last time we saw each other, just before Ronan left Henry and me alone in the bedroom of Penthouse Cabin One. He said he’d never forget that night. The truth is, neither will I.

“But you’ll come for the wedding, right?” “I’m invited?” I don’t miss the shock in his voice. “Don’t be silly. Of course, you’re invited.” I falter on my second question. Henry and I haven’t settled on the bridesman topic yet. “And that’s where you guys are doing it? Alaska?” “Yeah. We both love it up there.” There’s a lengthy pause. “Ronan? Are you still—” “Yeah, I’ll be there. For you. Not for your asshole fiancé. He doesn’t deserve you.”

“I’m happy.” “I know you are, and I’m happy for you.” He sighs heavily. “What are you doing tonight?” “Nothing with you,” a deep voice cuts in. I jump at the sudden interruption and spin around to find Henry standing in the doorway. Even with an annoyed scowl on his face, my heart races at the sight of him. A loud, aggravated groan carries over the speaker. “I guess this conversation is over.” “It shouldn’t have started,” Henry throws back without missing a beat.

“You still work for me, Ronan.” Henry closes in on me, his hands loosening his tie. “Which means I can fire you any damn time I please.” “But then you’d have to answer to your future wife, and I doubt she’d be impressed, seeing as I saved your rich, jealous ass for her,” comes Ronan’s quick retort. “Talk to you later, Red.” He ends the call. “Do you have to be a jerk?” “Yes.”

“Preston said you own this hotel?” Kendra’s bright cornflower-blue eyes shimmer with interest on Henry. She’s gorgeous. I can see why she caught the finance tycoon’s interest. “Did he now?” Henry smirks at his friend. “He’s being modest on my behalf. I own all Wolf hotels.” Preston’s head tips back with his booming laughter. “Now who’s the arrogant prick?” “Still you. Always you.” Henry slaps Preston’s back.

“Not even a wife yet and the Latin lover is already making his move.” Preston shakes his head. “And where is … Tatiana, is it?” Warner waves off his friend’s question with an absent “She’ll be here when she’s ready.” As if he doesn’t care one way or another if his date arrives.