Read Finding Julian for Free Online Page B

right up to him and slapped the smug look off his face. “No one is
allowed to talk about my mother like that. No one. Not even you,” I snapped, shaking
my now sore hand.
    Mr. Monroe’s eyes widened in horror. He
touched his cheek and growled, “You—”
    “Stop it!” Aunt Bev called out. She
stormed down the spiral staircase into the living room and stood between me and
Mr. Monroe. “I’d like you to leave, Anthony.” She gestured towards the front
door.
    His mouth clamped shut, humiliated. I
only felt regret for Seven, having to witness me slapping his father. I
wondered what he thought of me in this moment.
    “I’ll be getting a lawyer for my sister.
You won’t stay here past tomorrow,” Mr. Monroe spat out through gritted teeth.
He turned and started for the front door, but despair hit him deeply when he
realized that Seven wasn’t following behind.
    Mr. Monroe looked over his shoulder and
said in disbelief, “Son? Surely you aren’t staying?”
    I glanced at Seven. He appeared
exasperated. Seven kept his back turned on his father as he said flatly, “I’m
staying here.” His voice sounded hoarse. His shoulders sagged as if a million
things were weighing down on him. I wanted to provide some comfort, return what
he had done for me at the funeral.
    At the sound of the door slamming shut,
I looked over and saw that Mr. Monroe had left the guesthouse. Good.
    “Well, that was dramatic,” Aunt Bev
chimed in, smiling tight-lipped at me.
    I felt a little ashamed for losing my
cool. Actually, I wasn’t too mortified. Mr. Monroe deserved it. Still, I
thought an apology was at least necessary to Seven.
    “Sorry I slapped your father,” I
murmured, barely meeting his eyes.
    He shrugged. “My dad’s a jerk. What he
said about your mother was awful.”
    Seven brushed my shoulder lightly as he
walked past me and down the passage. I wanted to follow him, make sure he was
okay. But I still needed to talk to Aunt Bev.
    I spun and faced her fully. “Did my
father mention anything about giving me his estate in the journal you have?”
    She raised her brows. Aunt Bev had a
look on her face as if she had been caught. Smiling innocently, she answered,
“It wasn’t clearly stated—”
    “So you knew?”
    She pursed her lips and fumbled her
words. “I…suspected something to that extent…but not…entirely.”
    Dropping my hands to my side, I
continued to press her, “Why one month? What exactly does he want from me?”
    “Forgiveness,” she said sharply. “I
thought that was made clear after Mr. Cornwell read the will.” There was still
evidence of her holding back details. It was written all over her face.
    I stuck my hair behind my ear and asked
in a softer tone, “What aren’t you telling me?”
    Aunt Bev tipped her head to the side and
narrowed her eyes. “Julian, are you going to stay? Is that why you’re asking me
all this?”
    I exhaled deeply. “No…look, Aunt Bev, I
just want to know why me and not Mackenzie, or his wife.”
    She folded her arms and stared
sympathetically at me. “Maybe your father felt you were more deserving of all
he’d worked so hard to build. Maybe he knew your heart without even getting to
know you.”
    “Really?” I snorted, “How so?”
    Aunt Bev moved closer to me and unfolded
her arms. “Because of your mother, Julian,” she said in a whisper. “Sarah’s a
good woman. Of course you would be just the same. Your mother didn’t come here
that day for money,” she went on, “She came here to give him one last chance,
which was to accept you as a Vanderson.”
    I didn’t know what to say after that. My
mother never did explain to me why she had to see him before leaving for New
York. I only knew money wasn’t the case. Now it made sense. It was for my sake. She didn’t want me growing up thinking I had a father who didn’t want me.
Only, that’s exactly what happened. Yet, I wasn’t bitter. I was still holding
on to the hope that, maybe staying would