The Addendum (The Contract #3) Read Online Melanie Moreland

Categories Genre: Billionaire, Contemporary, Funny, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Contract Series by Melanie Moreland
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Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 95816 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
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“Love, what have you done?” he asked quietly. “You said you were going to give me a chance to do some research.”

“I don’t need any research,” she spat.

Halton squeezed my shoulder in warning.

“I think we need to step back,” he said. “Let the air cool. Perhaps arrange a meeting in my office.”

“And you are who, exactly?” Ashley demanded.

“Richard’s lawyer,” he stated smoothly. “I specialize in family law.”

“Of course you’d have a lawyer in your pocket,” she sneered. “You have everything, don’t you, Mr. VanRyan? The family, the friends, the wealth. Pretending your life is perfect. That you’re perfect, when we both know you’re anything but.”

I knew she disliked me. Perhaps hated me. But the venom in her voice stunned me. Before I could speak, Katy stood beside me, her voice clear and stern.

“Watch how you speak to my husband, young lady. You know nothing about him or our family. A shirt and some angry words from your mother prove nothing.”

Ashley’s eyes widened. Luc slipped his arm around her, murmuring something to her.

I cleared my throat, still struggling with everything she said. Trying to place the name that seemed familiar but had no memories attached to it that I could grasp. Almond-shaped dark eyes flashing with anger came to mind, but that was all. Nothing else.

“Halton is a member of this family. He isn’t in my pocket,” I said.

“Whatever,” she said dismissively.

“You have been shooting daggers at me since I met you,” I said, sounding calm, even though I felt anything but. “I understand why now, but anger and pointing fingers isn’t the way to solve this. I think Halton’s right, and maybe we need to meet under other circumstances than a gathering following my daughter’s wedding.”

I knew my choice of words was wrong as I watched the anger flare in her eyes again.

“Oh yes. Playing the doting father to the ones you choose to love. How sweet.”

“Enough!” Maddox roared. “You know nothing about him or the kind of man he is. And until this moment, he had no idea you existed. I suggest you calm down. In fact, I insist you leave our property. When you’re ready to talk—”

I held up my hand, stopping him.

“I’ve got this, Maddox. I am not going to argue with you right now, Ashley. I need to process this, and perhaps we can meet as Halton stated.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Luc said, tugging her closer.

“Maybe a DNA test would be appropriate,” Bentley muttered.

“My thoughts exactly,” Halton said.

Ashley tossed her head. “I’ll think about it.”

I frowned. “If you’re so determined I’m your father, why not? I’ll demand one before I give you whatever it is you’re after.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want anything from you. You may be my sperm donor, Mr. VanRyan, but you’ll never be my father.”

She turned to leave, and Katy spoke up, her voice thin, almost tremulous.

“How old are you?”

Ashley whirled around, for a moment her gaze not as angry. “Older than Grace, Mrs. VanRyan. I was born before you married him.”

“I see.”

Luc and Ashley left, the sound of a car engine fading as they drove away. I sat down, my legs shaking. No one spoke as everyone else sat down, the tension around the table thick. I didn’t know where to look, what to say. I wanted to be alone. I needed to think. I needed to talk to Katy.

Katy.

I looked at her, meeting her eyes. Hurt and confusion were in her gaze. Worry. Pain.

I leaned close. “I would never…” I began, unable to even say the words, but needing her to know.

“I know.”

“There has only been you. Always you since we got married, Katy.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

“If this is true, this is before us.”

She nodded, then looked away. She stood. “I think I need to say goodnight.”

Her hand on my shoulder prevented me from going with her. She said it all with the pressure of her fingers. She wanted to be alone. She left, her head high, her shoulders back. But I felt her pain. I shut my eyes as the weight of what had just happened hit me.

I sensed movement and quiet conversations, which I ignored. I tried to calm myself, to slow the rush of blood that pounded in my head, making it ache. Slow my heartbeat that seemed too fast and too loud in my ears. Stop the wetness behind my eyes at the hurt my wife had just experienced. The devastation I had witnessed in Ashley’s eyes as she stared at me, spouting her hatred.

Ashley. My daughter.

I startled at my own thoughts.

My daughter?

It was a claim, based on a shirt and nothing more.

Except now that I had seen it, I couldn’t unsee it. The similarities between her and me. Between her and Heather. They had been staring right at me, but I had refused to see them.


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