Chapter Text
“You want me to help you take down my best friend and her whole family?” Penelope asked, confused out of her mind. Penelope Featherington had guessed that once people crossed the river out of Manhattan, they had to lose brain cells or at least some dignity. Colin Ledger had lost both the second he had stepped into her penthouse.
Something must’ve been lost in between the iron and the distance—something like common sense or even actual intellectuality.
Either that he was plain stupid.
“She can hardly be considered your best friend after what she just did to you last night.” His blue eyes sparked in mischief, and he studied her face, probably assessing if this was a bad idea.
Which it was.
Penelope stopped second-guessing his intelligence and began to think that there was something outwardly wrong with him. She had barely met this man— this boy—not even two months ago, and he came to her penthouse on a limo, wearing borrowed Versace, parading runway pieces that fit him perfectly, custom jewelry, red bottoms, and thinking he was on par with her? That he, somehow, belonged here.
Penelope had to fight back a scuff, the thought making her sick.
That and also his hypocrisy. These people, these wonderful humans, had taken pity on him and his sister for God knows what reason and had taken them under their wing.
She felt rage build inside her, thinking of sweet Edmund and Agatha. How philanthropic of them to take two kids from Brooklyn to care for because their mother had died.
“And why do you want to seek revenge on a family that opened up the doors for you. Are you really that desperate for money and to be someone relevant, Brooklyn boy?” The poison in her words should’ve warned him. She never liked him.
Someone so out of their orbit.
Someone who didn’t belong.
Someone who got lucky enough to land in a golden palace, after living off scraps for his entire life.
Someone who was so ungrateful, he was willing to risk it all for some delusion built in his head.
Colin rolled his eyes in annoyance, and Penelope wanted to slap him. How dare he come to her house and roll his eyes at her? Who did he think he was? And didn’t he know who she was? “I hate this world, and I want out of it. But I only stay for Daphne and her future.”
Ah yes. She rather liked Daphne Ledger. She was sweet and poised. If she didn’t know her back story, Penelope could’ve passed her as.. ugh… new money. Still not on par with generational wealth like the Bridgertons, Featheringtons, and... the Cranes.
Nonetheless, Penelope didn’t have brothers or sisters to understand the sacrifice of living a life one allegedly doesn’t want for the sake of someone else.
“You still haven’t answered my question,” Penelope’s insides were burning in a mix of annoyance and fury. It was 9 pm; she was hungover and had things to do. And by things to do, she meant: cry herself to sleep because of what had happened last night. To shake it off so tomorrow, at school, it would be as if nothing had happened.
A clean slate.
A new scheme.
“Because Edmund is my biological father and he is behind my mother’s death.”
So this is where delusion meets drugs, Penelope thought. She was never the biggest fan of substances that clouded her judgment enough to lose control of herself. So she’d only indulged in the usual glass of Dom or Macallan.
But all her friends liked to experiment with drugs of any kind, so she’d see it firsthand.
This seemed pretty close to the hallucinations Phillip had had the first time he did mushrooms at the Waverly.
The air left her lungs, but she scoffed softly. “What exactly is in the unfiltered water in Brooklyn? Or did you take a pill out of Benedict’s emergency drawer?” She was now crossing from rage to amusement territory. The whole situation was laughable. “Do you really think I’m going to believe that?”
“I’m not here to be your friend,” Colin said, face unshifted and unamused. Penelope raised an eyebrow. “I’m here to ask you to take revenge on Marina Bridgerton with me. You are one of the most vicious people I’ve ever met. It’s you or Phillip, but I have a feeling he will do whatever you ask of him. If you are up for it, good. If not, I’ll find some other way,” his voice was decisive. Penelope couldn’t find a trace of deception in his face. Nor his voice.
“You’re serious,” she finally said. Disbelief of the information he’d just given her was taking over her whole brain. She didn’t even register that he called her vicious.
In the Upper East Side, affairs were something of a common occurrence. Money and power made everything so easy that people usually got bored out of their minds and sought some kind of adrenaline rush when drugs wouldn’t get the right high.
But to think that sweet Edmund Bridgerton would ever dare to cheat on Agatha Bridgerton… That was preposterous. She would’ve guessed it from the Cranes. But never from the Bridgertons. Or her parents, for that matter.
Colin nodded his head and extended his hand in one swift motion. “Do we have a deal?”
The feeling of embarrassment and betrayal took over Penelope’s chest before she could even consider this option. Was she going to declare war on her best friend of sixteen years? Did she really want to expose her whole family because Marina had been a backstabbing whore?
Penelope stared at Colin’s hand for a beat as the images flashed before her eyes, and she felt bile come up her throat. “I’ll only help you expose Marina. I’m not doing anything against the rest of the Bridgertons.”
Colin sighed deeply, and she guessed he realized this was better than any other offer. Penelope was, by all means, the best at scheming on this damn island.
Poised, as ever, she turned to the glasses Rae had left on the wooden table beside her and handed one to him. The clear liquid swirled around the crystal glass with the movement.
Colin brought it up to his nose and smelled the liquor, making a face as he didn’t smell anything other than pure alcohol.
“In the Upper East Side, we don’t shake hands. Those are used to stab people in the back,” Penelope said, raising her glass ever so slightly. Colin was much taller than she, especially now that she was not wearing heels.
So he only had to slightly raise the glass to meet hers.
Colin did as much, and the crystal clink broke the sharpened silence in the foyer. “What is in this?”
“It’s just vodka,” Penelope responded with a mischievous smile. “Bottoms up, Ledger. I have a feeling that we’re going to have a blast,” a smile curved into her lips before the burning sensation of the drink hit her throat.
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Six months ago
It was exhausting. Taking care of everyone at such a young age. And all because his mother was scared to break up the relationship with the abusive bastard who would hit her anytime he had the chance.
The keys unlocked the front door of their small two-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn, and Colin felt relief and the inevitable dread of coming back home. He’d been in juvie for forty-eight hours for hitting Marcus until he passed out.
Violet Ledger was the most wonderful woman in the world, and Colin would go to war for her. He would kill for her. But it was always the same thing: him getting caught hitting Marcus when the neighbors called the police for the disturbances, and them taking him to jail for a couple of days before releasing him into this toxic world.
It was a sick cycle for a seventeen-year-old to live every day.
For all of his life, it had been his twin sister Daphne, Violet, and him. Navigating through life, working extra hours after school to afford a shitty place near Coney Island. Sometimes he’d go to bed hungry because he’d rather starve than not have his mom or sister have a proper meal.
By all means, life was not easy, but it was the three of them — the Ledgers — against the world.
That was, of course, until fucking Marcus Anderson showed up and had his mom wrapped around his stupid finger.
Colin hated Marcus. He was abusive, an alcoholic, and probably a drug dealer. He wished he had solid proof to rat on him. To call the police and get rid of him once and for all. To wake up each morning knowing there wouldn’t be any harm during dinner. That they could have a laugh and talk about anything because there wasn’t any topic off the table.
Daphne could talk about the boy she liked without a reaction being blown out of proportion.
Colin could talk about his day at work and the money he’d earned without a snearing remark about him being a lazy ass.
Violet could cook whatever she wanted without a massive fight.
His dream was to live a life free of Marcus. Like they used to, for fourteen years.
“You’re back,” Violet greeted him at the entrance of the apartment, relief and warmth exuding from her. It broke Colin’s heart to know that such a beautiful, warm woman could be tied to a piece of shit man. “I’m so sorry, Colin, I didn’t know Marcus was drunk, and I didn’t mean to make the wrong recipe for dinner.”
Colin sighed. Here she goes again. Making excuses for the rage fit her boyfriend had, which ended up in a fight between him and Colin. He could still feel the flesh of his skin against his knuckles. The blood tainting his shirt.
Colin had started going to the park outdoor gym every day for the last two and a half years when he realized Marcus was much bigger and could hit him easily. So now, they were almost the same height, and Colin was much more muscular than the stupid asshole.
A good deed, he thought, to protect Vi and Daph.
“It’s okay, Mom,” Colin threw his keys to the table beside the entrance and paced toward his and Daphne’s room. He didn’t want to talk to her. She’d start crying and begging for forgiveness, and it would make Colin all the more upset.
Their shared room was neither big nor spacious. Just two bunk beds with a desk and a nightstand. Daphne had taken to decorating the room, since Colin barely cared about that. Posters from different bands and artists he was not familiar with adorned the walls.
Daph must’ve been in ballet class or something because he was left alone.
Since Colin was a sleepwalker, he always had to take the bottom bed. So once he reached his sanctuary, the only place where no one could hurt him, Colin threw himself into the stiff mattress, much softer than the one in the jail cell, and let himself sink into the warmth of his safe place.
The tears started falling freely before he could help them, and he wondered if this was going to be his life forever. He wondered if he was destined to be in and out of jail because he wanted to protect his mom and his sister. He wondered if one day, he wouldn’t measure the strength of his punch and knock out Marcus dead.
Colin closed his eyes, trying to remove the toxicity of his train of thought from his mind. He liked to drift away to another life, where he could live in peace with Daph and his mom. Only working to pay for college, and not because Marcus wouldn’t let his mom have a job, because of the interaction with men.
He dreamed of a life where everything was easier, and he felt fulfilled.
“Hey,” Daphne said from the foot of his bed, caressing his calves. It was dark outside, and Colin didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep. “How are you feeling?”
“Exhausted,” Colin said softly. “I can’t believe this is my life.”
Daphne nodded, but tears welled behind her eyes. Colin sat up straight, quickly, as if he could protect her from her own feelings. He hated to see his sister cry. It was a wrenching feeling that made his insides turn. She deserved a bright future. A shiny, beautiful future away from all this mess.
He would give his life to spare Daphne from the nightmare they lived in all the time.
Colin hugged her tightly and kissed the top of her head. Her uncontrollable sobs wet his hoodie, and he couldn’t seem to find the words to calm her down.
So he let her cry. Like she did every night he arrived from jail, and every night Marcus yelled at Mom.
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The funeral was beautiful. Who knew so many people loved Violet Ledger? All of the neighbors had shown up, sharing their condolences with Daphne and Colin. Their soft lines never landed properly, since they all witnessed what a horrible human Marcus was, and yet none of them were present when they’d tell the police that Marcus was a scumbag abuser.
The hypocrisy left him wanting to flee. Desperate to meet people who weren’t so goddamn fake and selfish.
Colin was the elder twin by two minutes. This, in some capacity, always made him feel responsible for Daphne. So during this whole mess (the police investigation, the interrogation, the funeral arrangements, the wake, and everything in between), Colin had taken charge.
He’d settled everything, talked to everyone, and spread the word through Violet’s and his socials.
All of it in remembrance of a woman who loved too much, even beyond salvation. Her ability to love and forgive, Colin thought, had been her death sentence.
At night, when they were alone in their apartment, the flashbacks came to him like a sour memory.
His mother crying.
Marcus demanding answers.
Colin trying to hold back his anger because he was on probation, and if he dared to touch Marcus again, he’d be in jail for longer than the previous times.
He thanked whatever God was kind of looking after them, because Daphne had gone out with friends, and she was not witnessing this mess.
And then, in a split second, Marcus had pushed his mom at the wrong angle. Too hard for her to be able to balance herself, and she’d hit her head on the corner of the coffee table.
The doctors had ruled it an imminent death.
That was nice. At least she didn’t suffer. All the suffering was left to him because Marcus had fled the scene as Colin rushed her to the ER.
“Do you think she’s looking after us?” Daphne said while both of them lay on Violet’s bed, holding hands. Trying to get some kind of strength from the other.
The peeling roof over their heads was disintegrating, and he made a mental note to fix it soon. The landlord wouldn’t do shit about it.
“Of course,” Colin said. “She will always be with us.”
A sob escaped Daphne’s mouth, and Colin took a deep breath. He’d been reserving his crying sessions when Daphne was out, and he could be alone.
The aching hollowness in his chest didn’t cease, though. But he guessed he had to be strong and live with it.
For Daphne's sake.
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Life had somehow found a way to kick him while he was down. When would he catch a break?
“What do you mean we have to go to a foster home?” Colin’s voice cracked on the last two words. He sounded feral, cornered. “We can live on our own.”
Ms. Rivera didn’t flinch. She’d probably seen a thousand boys like him — angry, grieving, desperate not to lose the last person they had left. She wasn’t here to protect them; no one ever did.
She was here to do her job. A checklist in her never-ending duties at the ACS. Colin wondered how many years in her skin had gotten so thick that she barely acknowledged the hurt of kids who’d lost everything.
“Colin… you and Daphne are minors. The law doesn’t allow you to live here without an adult guardian. I’m sorry.”
“We’re seventeen.” He hated the way that sounded — powerless, like a child begging. “In ten months, we’ll be adults. We pay rent, we work, we go to school. We don’t need—”
“You need supervision,” she said softly. “The court needs to make sure you’re safe.”
Safe. Colin almost laughed. Where was “safe” when Marcus was slamming his mother’s head into a coffee table? Where was “safe” when Daphne called the police, crying because Marcus was beating Colin? Where was “safe” when he locked Daphne into their room, before Marcus slammed the door open with one kick?
Daphne squeezed his hand, her palm cold. “Please,” she whispered. “We can’t be separated.”
Ms. Rivera’s expression faltered for the first time, just a little empathy creeping through. “I’m going to see what I can do,” she murmured. “There are… exceptions. But it has to go through a judge. And it won’t happen today.”
Colin’s stomach dropped. So they weren’t being taken now, but they could be. At any moment.
He straightened, jaw set like steel. He hadn’t been raised to give up easily, and Daphne was the only person he had left in this world. No one was taking his sister. Not after everything they’d survived.
If he had to fight the entire city of New York, he would.
The room was beige in the way government buildings always were — walls the color of nothing, chairs that squeaked when you shifted, fluorescent lights that hummed above them like they were mocking the silence. Colin hated it here. Places like this always felt like cages disguised as kindness. Like duty passing as empathy. They would become just a number for the system. Not people.
Ms. Rivera was sitting across from them with a file open on her lap. She had soft eyes, but not soft enough to stop the ache crawling up Colin’s spine. Her job wasn’t to comfort them — it was to decide what happened to them. It was to throw them into the least worst place in this damn city so they could survive for ten more months before they could venture on their own.
“Daphne,” she said gently, “can you tell me how you feel about staying in your current home?”
Daphne swallowed, her voice barely above a whisper. “That’s our home. It’s where Mom raised us.”
“And do you feel safe there now?”
Colin felt Daphne freeze beside him. He knew that look — terror mixed with confusion, shame mixed with exhaustion. They weren’t unsafe. They weren’t. But a small part of them knew that the ghosts of what had happened would haunt them for life. But in the physical realm of things, they knew nothing would happen to them there.
Marcus was behind bars, and Colin would always look after his sister. Whatever it took.
But it would especially haunt Colin, for as long as they lived there. It came in the oddest ways, really. One day, when he was making dinner for himself and Daph, he took a look at the coffee table, and he swore he could see a blood stain on it. For a second, the air left his lungs, and an unbearable sense of dread took over his whole demeanor. He moved quickly, and that night, they had to eat dinner on the floor; the coffee table was gone.
“Safe enough,” Daphne managed.
Ms. Rivera’s pen paused. “‘Safe enough’ isn’t the same as safe.”
Colin’s jaw clenched so hard it hurt. “What does that even mean?” he snapped. “There’s no one there who can hurt us.”
Her eyes shifted to him. Calm. Professional. She was used to angry boys. She had probably seen thousands of them.
“Colin,” she said, “you’ve been arrested multiple times defending your mother from domestic violence. You’re on probation. You’re dealing with grief, trauma, and anger. These are not easy conditions for self-sufficiency.”
“I’m not dangerous,” he bit out. He couldn’t believe this woman, who knew nothing about them, had to make the irreparable decision of where their future would be. It was the most ridiculous thing in the world. “And Daphne is safer with me than with anyone else.”
“I didn’t say you were,” Ms. Rivera said, ignoring the last bit of his statement. “But you are a minor navigating complex emotions without an adult. Both of you are.”
Daphne’s breathing quickened, and Colin put his hand over hers to steady her. He would always be there to make sure she was protected and safe. He had failed his mother, but he would never fail Daphne.
Ms. Rivera continued, “Can either of you tell me who buys your groceries? Who pays for utilities? Rent? Medical appointments?”
“Both of us do,” Colin said. “I work. I’ve worked since I was thirteen.”
“Two part-time jobs,” Daphne added softly. “And I tutor younger students.”
Ms. Rivera nodded. “That’s admirable. Truly. But the law does not allow minors to live without adult supervision, regardless of how responsible you are.”
Colin felt heat rising in his chest — fury, helplessness, grief merging into something sharp and suffocating. He wanted to yell and cry. He wanted to hit something.
“So what? You split us up? Put us with strangers?” His voice cracked. “We only have each other.”
“That’s not the goal,” she said quickly. “If we can place you together, we will.”
“If?” Daphne whispered. Her voice collapsed inward, and Colin’s heart split with it. He would never allow that to happen. Even if he had to work three jobs to pay for a better attorney. He would never leave his sister.
Ms. Rivera sighed, empathy flickering across her face in a way that made Colin want to scream. She meant well, but good intentions didn’t keep families together. Paperwork did. Judges did. People with power did.
“We’re going to explore all family connections,” she said. “Anyone your mother listed as a contact, anyone you trust—”
“We don’t have anyone else,” Colin said. He heard his voice wobble, but didn’t care.
“What about your father?” Ms. Rivera asked. The question struck Colin harder than it meant to.
For so many years, Colin didn’t even think of the word father. It meant nothing to him. But then, about six months ago, he’d seen his mother kissing a man who was definitely not Marcus, exiting the back of a rather expensive-looking car. A limo.
“We don’t have a father,” Colin answered quickly.
Ms. Rivera closed the file.
“We’ll finish the home safety check soon. In situations like this, we move quickly. You may be placed today or tomorrow. Please pack some essentials—”
“No.” Colin stood. “You can’t just—”
Daphne grabbed his wrist. “Colin, please—”
“I’m not letting them take you,” he said, loud enough that Ms. Rivera stiffened.
Her voice was gentle but firm. He knew he seemed like an out-of-control teenager, but he only lost his cool when he saw Marcus abuse his mother. “Colin. Sit down. I understand this is terrifying—”
“No, you don’t,” he said. “If you understood anything, you wouldn’t be trying to take the last person I have left.”
For a moment, the room went silent. Ms. Rivera’s face softened, pained even — but her hands remained steady on the folder.
“I truly am sorry,” she said quietly. “But the law is very clear. Without a legal guardian, you cannot remain in that apartment.”
Daphne’s tears finally spilled, and Colin felt his world split open. This wasn’t fair. They didn’t deserve this.
Haven’t life beaten them down too many times? What had they done for this to be their punishment?
The tears started prickling in his eyes, and then there was a knock on the door. Loud enough to interrupt his detrimental train of thought and Daphne’s soft gasps as she tried to calm herself.
Ms. Rivera looked up from the folder and stood to open the door. “I’ll be right back.”
Colin and Daphne exchanged a confused look, and she grabbed his hand. “I love you, brother,” Daphne said, cheeks and eyes red from crying.
“I won’t let them separate us, Daph,” he promised, squeezing her hand softly but sternly.
Before Daphne could answer, voices drifted in from the hallway — low, firm, carrying the kind of authority that made bureaucratic walls tremble. Colin couldn’t make out words, only the tone. A man’s tone: firm and demanding. Nothing aggressive, just steady.
Daphne looked toward the door, straightened slightly, and wiped her cheeks. What could possibly be going on that was so relevant to distract Ms. Rivera from ruining their lives?
The door opened again.
Ms. Rivera walked in with her posture different — shoulders tight, chin lifted, the careful neutrality of someone suddenly aware she’s in the presence of a force larger than her job title.
Behind her, entered a man Colin remembered all too well. Or at least, he kind of did.
Broad shoulders, bright blue eyes, chestnut salt and pepper hair. Sharp jaw and skin. He was dressed in a well-pressed suit that looked more expensive than anything they could ever earn in their lifetime.
His gaze was soft but steady. The man looked at Colin and then turned to Daphne. A lopsided smile escaped his lips as his eyes watered when he looked at his sister.
The grief in them was hidden deep, controlled with the discipline of a man who refused to break in public.
He filled the doorway.
Colin felt Daphne’s fingers clamp around his. His sister had no idea who this man was, but he knew she’d piece it together in no time. And if she did it, she’d ask him later.
The realization made his stomach turn.
Ms. Rivera cleared her throat. “Colin… Daphne… this is Mr. Edmund Bridgerton. He—”
Edmund stepped forward, voice smooth and quiet, but edged with something undeniable. His eyes softened a little more, and Colin could swear he was about to cry.
“Kids,” he said, nodding once. “I’m so very sorry for your loss.”
Daphne blinked, probably confused and trying to make up reasons and explanations in her head. Colin felt his pulse thrum in his ears.
Edmund’s eyes flicked to him for half a second — a recognition that carried weight. A secret. A vow unspoken.
Then Edmund turned to Ms. Rivera.
“I’ve come to take responsibility for them,” he said simply. “Both of them.”
Ms. Rivera hesitated. “Mr. Bridgerton, as I explained in the hallway, ACS requires—”
“My attorney has filed the emergency guardianship petition,” Edmund interrupted, not unkindly, but with the confidence of someone who hadn’t heard the word no in decades. “Judge Hathaway has already approved it. Your office should receive the signed order momentarily.”
As if summoned by his words, Ms. Rivera’s iPad dinged. Her eyes skimmed over the email, and her eyelids fluttered.
Colin didn’t understand what exactly was going on, but he wasn’t going anywhere with this man.
“We’re not going with him,” Colin said, sharply and stubbornly.
“I’m afraid you don’t have any option, kid,” Edmund said sternly but with a subtle kindness that made Colin’s blood boil. How dare he?
Edmund turned to Ms. Rivera and Colin to Daphne. A hundred questions were spilling out of her eyes, and Colin had the answers to none. So he shrugged and sighed.
“Additionally,” he continued, “I will personally handle all necessary arrangements regarding their residence, education, therapy, and care. You will have full access to my legal team should you need clarification.”
Ms. Rivera swallowed. “Mr. Bridgerton, you understand that emergency guardianship is temporary? A follow-up hearing—”
“I’ll be there,” Edmund said. “And so will Judge Hathaway.”
A beat.
“It will not be an issue.”
Colin couldn’t breathe for a moment. He had seen adults command rooms before — teachers, cops, workers. But this was different. This was a man who bent reality. This was a man who made things go his way, one way or the other.
It scared him how easily it happened for Edmund Bridgerton. To say something and manifest it into existence. He knew nothing other than his name, and Colin was now wishing he had never seen him all those months ago with his mom. Maybe if he hadn’t, none of this would’ve happened.
Ms. Rivera cleared her throat and turned to the twins, softening again. “You… you’re legally under Mr. Bridgerton’s care now. You’ll be staying with him.”
Daphne covered her mouth as another sob escaped — but this one sounded like relief instead of despair. Colin knew that the only thing she cared about was living with Colin. One way or the other.
And now it was happening.
But Colin… Colin didn’t want to owe this man a favor. Colin didn’t even want to be associated with this man. His shock and anger didn’t let him move. Speak. Breathe.
Edmund’s gaze settled on him again. It wasn’t cold or pitying. There was an underlying meaning behind his blue eyes. Something that Colin couldn’t read.
“Pack your things,” Edmund said gently. “You’re coming home.”
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The penthouse at 740 Park Avenue greeted Daphne and Colin with a foreign warmth that made him shiver. It was too poised, too perfect.
The foyer stretched from floor to ceiling, with walls that overlooked the kind greenery he’d only seen in movies.
The dining table was long enough to fit at least 15 people; wooden and shiny as if it had been polished just for their arrival.
The living room could have been an apartment on its own, with a small balcony that had lounging chairs outside. The floor was marble, and the palette was all blue. Different shades of blue as if the sky and ocean had merged into one.
Blue- like his Mom’s favorite color.
Blue- like his eyes and Edmund’s.
Blue- like what he felt right now.
“Wow,” Daphne whispered, walking into the apartment as soon as the private elevator dinged. “This place is beautiful.”
”Thank you, Daphne. I am a little into interior design, but I can’t take the credit for it. This is all… Agatha’s work,” this was the first time he mentioned anyone other than himself. It was as if Edmund Bridgerton was worried he could say too much.
Ironic. He’d brought them into his world and hadn’t managed to explain exactly why he took pity on them.
“You each have your own room on the second floor,” Edmund gestured to some kind of butler waiting next to a wooden door. “This is John, he’s practically family. John, these are Daphne and Colin. They live with us now.”
”Welcome, Mr and Ms. Ledger,” John replied, and Daphne offered him a slight smile. Colin didn’t budge as much. He wanted answers, but something about Edmund’s posture let him know that right now was not the time to ask the questions.
“Anthony and Benedict, our eldest, go to Columbia, so they live somewhere near campus. Eloise is a year younger than you two, but she is out in the Hamptons with Agatha, Marina, Francesca, Hyacinth, and Gregory.”
Colin took a mental note. Aside from Agatha, whom Colin assumed was Edmund’s wife, he mentioned seven other people. Either he took on stray people, or they fucked like rabbits.
“And who are all those people supposed to be?” Colin asked, sounding a little annoyed. Daphne elbowed him in the ribs and gave him a look.
”I suppose you’re right for asking, Colin,” Edmund chuckled a little and directed them to a family portrait.
How the hell did the painter fit nine people into one single frame? It astonished him. Edmund and Agatha were sitting on chairs, poised and exuding elegance. And the kids (even when there were two who looked at least five years older than him and Daph) all shared the same expression on their faces. And it was impressive, really, how almost all of them looked exactly the same. A carbon copy of one another with slight variations.
Colin had to take a deep breath, realizing that these kids were related to him and he (and Daph) could easily pass down as their blood.
Surely, this man’s genes are fucking powerful.
Just like him.
One of the girls, though, looked more like Agatha than the others.
“My children,” Edmund motioned. He went to each one of them, and he noticed that Marina was the one who stood out because of her… different looks. While the rest of the Bridgerton siblings shared blue or green eyes, Marina’s were some kind of amber. And where all of the others had chestnut colored hair, Marina’s was a tad darker.
“Looks like you have a lot of time on your hands,” Colin whispered, making Daphne laugh softly at the implication, and Edmund gave him an amused shrug.
“We are an unconventionally large family,” Edmund admitted. “Thankfully, we have the means to provide for all of them.”
I bet, Colin thought, looking around at the sheer amount of wealth displayed in front of him. He’d never seen an apartment look so luxurious and spacious at the same time. Colin hadn’t even imagined what this type of wealth could do in a city like New York.
How filthy rich do you have to be to live like this in one of the most expensive cities in the world?
“I bet you have a billion questions right now, but I’m sure you’d like to settle and get comfortable. I can ask the chef to cook something for the three of us,” Edmund said, and Colin couldn’t help but notice exactly how nervous he looked.
“Chef?” Daphne, who had been particularly silent the whole time, said in awe.
Edmund chuckled and nodded. “Go to your rooms and get yourselves comfortable. I’ll ask John to let us know when dinner is ready.”
Reluctantly— and truly, Colin didn’t want this— he grabbed his small backpack and headed upstairs with Daphne. Her excitement and awe should’ve been contagious, but if anything, it made Colin feel worse.
Because he was hiding such a huge secret from her, and he wasn’t sure how or when to tell her.
“This is insane,” Daphne said from the doorframe of the room John motioned her to. “Look at this view. I swear I can see all of the skyline from here.”
“Don’t get too excited, Daph. We just have to be here for a couple of weeks before they reassign us to someone better.”
”Better?” Daphne asked incredulously, “How can we get something better than this?” She asked, motioning to the huge bed in front of her, the vanity mirror, and the walk-in closet.
He understood his sister’s excitement and logic, but knowing what Colin did, he couldn’t enjoy the burst of luck the Universe had provided for them.
He’d always had to be a weary person; always aware when the shoe might drop. A pessimist, if you will.
“I don’t know, Daph, but we can’t stay here. We don’t belong in this world,” Colin said, sighing and hoping all of this was an awful dream. Something he’d made up in his mind while in jail, waiting to be released anytime now.
“I think Mom sent him to us to protect us. What if he’s our guardian angel?” Barely, Colin wanted to say, but knew that this was an uphill battle. Daphne would start asking questions he didn’t have the answers to, and Colin didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to fight with the only thing that was anchoring him to this goddamn world.
So he just turned to his sister and kissed the top of her head.
“I’m going to take a shower and a nap. I’ll see you later,” Daphne started dancing around the room, and Colin clicked the door shut.
This had to be a dream because how exactly did his biological father manage to get custody of them after seventeen years and not even mention it? And he was apparently a Manhattan tycoon? How else could you explain the palace they lived in?
He had so many questions. He wanted to ask all of them—now.
Before he knew what he was doing, Colin headed down to the door he assumed led to Edmund’s study and knocked. The wooden echo was louder than anything around the penthouse, but not loud enough to dull his thoughts. Or to steady his shaking hands, wondering what the answers on the other side of the door might be.
”Come in,” he heard Edmund’s voice from inside the room. Colin took a second to reconsider, but he guessed it was too late, so he opened the door reluctantly and stepped inside. ”Ah, Colin. Did you find everything well?”
”Why did you bring us here?” He asked, no preamble, ignoring Edmund’s question. His father was sitting comfortably in a wooden desk that Colin thought he’d only seen in some kind of old school film. No man on Earth could look any more wealthy just sitting behind dark wooden furniture. No man except Edmund Bridgerton.
Behind him, Colin noticed the sheer number of diplomas from Ivy League Schools and other things he didn’t recognize but assumed added to his impressive CV:
Bachelor of Arts.in Economics — Harvard University
MBA in Finance & Strategy — Harvard Business School
Juris Doctor of Corporate & Real Estate Law — Columbia Law School
Honorary Doctorate in Urban Development — New York University
Licensed Real Estate Broker — State of New York
LEED Accredited Professional — U.S. Green Building Council
Colin thought that he’d be just a nepo baby who lived off a trust fund. Guess he was way off.
“To take care of you,” he said simply, and Colin had the irrational feeling to punch him. How stupid did he think Colin was? Was it because he was poor? That he thought he somehow lacked intelligence?
Edmund’s eyes were soft, but they still had an edge to them. As if he were assessing what Colin might do next. He felt like a caveman for a second.
Maybe Edmund could sense the air shift because his expression softened a little. “What do you want to know, Colin?”
Colin could simply ask him.
Do you know you are my father?
And they could spare each other the fake niceties that brought them together.
But would that be too forward? Should Colin test the waters first?
”How do…” he gulped, willing the tears away. “…did you know my mom?”
He had learned in exactly 2 hours that Edmund Bridgerton did not exactly hide his emotions. That, or he was easy to read, because the second he mentioned Violet, his eyes watered, and he saw his lower lip tremble a little.
For less than a second, Colin felt bad for him. As if this stranger could feel the loss of his mother as much as he and Daph had.
“We’ve been friends for longer than I can remember.”
”Friends?” Colin asked, sarcasm dripping from his words. Even at seventeen, Colin was more mature than most kids his age. He had lived through many tough scenarios. But in the face of his biological father (who had abandoned them), Colin couldn’t help but feel like a rebellious, pissed teenager.
”I met her when I was about your age and we… umm... frequented the same party scenes.”
Colin leaned his head to his left, examining the man sitting in front of him. “And you stopped any form of communication after you… “frequented the same party scenes”?” Colin used quotation marks with his fingers, and Edmund let out a soft laugh.
”No,” he said softly, “we kept in contact. She was very dear to me.”
”Doesn’t explain exactly why you would take in two teenagers. That’s a huge burden on a family.”
”Lucky for said teenagers,” Edmund smiled teasingly, “I am fucking loaded.”
The curse word sounded foreign in his poised mouth, and Colin couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh. It was an involuntary reaction to the ridiculousness that now surrounded him. So outwardly crazy and out of a fantasy that Colin’s mind betrayed him.
The shift in lightness must’ve pleased Edmund because he let out a soft, but masculine laugh.
But just as quickly as his thoughts betrayed him, Colin composed himself once he realized his walls were coming down and stiffened his back. “We will be out of here by the time your kids get back from the Hamptons,’ Colin declared.
Edmund stood slowly and walked around his desk. “Why are you so eager to get out of here, Colin? This place could guarantee you and your sister a bright future. A secure future.”
”We have survived on our own. We don’t need you,” Colin said stubbornly. He’d taken care of his mom and his sister for years. He could keep doing it for as long as Daphne needed him.
“Maybe it’s time to release all that responsibility, kid,” Edmund said, eyes soft and tender. “Maybe allow someone to take care of you for once.”
”I don’t need you,” he repeated stubbornly.
“Alright,” Edmund said. “If you wish to leave, I will get you back to the ACS data system, and you and Daphne, separately, can venture on your own for ten more months.”
Images of Daphne, defenseless and crying herself to sleep each night alone, flooded his mind, and Colin had to gulp back the knot in his throat. The thought of being separated from Daphne made him physically sick, and Colin knew he was trapped.
“Fine,” he said resolutely. “But only until we are old enough to live on our own.”
Edmund smiled at him and nodded. “As long as you feel comfortable here,” he promised. “But you will be enrolled at Saint Charles’ for your senior year and Daphne at Saint Mary’s.”
Colin's eyes widened, and he shook his head. “We don’t need to go to school. Much less private school in senior year.”
”On the contrary, kid,” Edmund said. “You might be under my care until you turn eighteen, but I still fully expect you two to get into a great University. I will do everything in my power to make it happen. Wherever it might be. Money is not an issue.”
Colin felt his insides turn, and before he could say anything else, Edmund interrupted him. “That’s not up for discussion. These schools feed Ivy League schools, and I know you two will be on par with the students there. You just need to keep good grades and enroll in some extracurriculars.”
Everything was going too fast, and Colin felt dizzy. He’d never planned this far ahead. His life had always been going on autopilot. Survive every day.
Tomorrow will bring its problems.
Or blessings.
“You don’t…”
”It’s not up for discussion, as I said. You might want to leave, but surely you won’t deny Daphne a bright future at whatever she wants to be in life,” a ballerina, Colin’s mind whispered.
And then he could see it perfectly — Daphne at the Rockettes’ show, graduating from Juilliard, performing the Black Swan or the Nutcracker at Lincoln Center— and he felt overwhelmed.
He could never yank this away from Daph.
She deserved everything.
And Colin would do whatever it took to grant it to her.
Embarrassed, Colin nodded and headed to the door, reluctant and defeated. He’d never had anyone give him orders, only his bosses. But this was different.
Because what was at stake was not just a silly little raise or an increase in his wage.
This was Daphne’s dream, and he had to help her accomplish it.
“Get some rest,” Edmund interrupted his thoughts before Colin exited the study. “We‘ll catch dinner at around 7 pm.”
Colin didn’t turn around. He just clicked the door shut and paced upstairs.
To his own bedroom. In a penthouse. In Manhattan.
When did his life give a 180 turn?