We went into dinner immediately. I’d planned it that way; I figured the less time we had to make small talk, and the sooner we got around to putting food in our mouths, the less time there was for potential disaster.

“It’s nice to have you here,” I told Mr. Templeton as we sat down.

“Thank you for the invitation.”

“I hope it didn’t cause any… friction.”

I wondered if he would know what I meant, since I didn’t want to spell it out.

He knew exactly what I meant. “As it so happens, Vincent, Miranda, and my wife are out of town.”

Connor raised his glass and toasted mischievously, “To things working out for the best.”

I glared at him. Behave.

He just gave me a punk-ass, mischievous little smile in return.

I sighed and turned my attention back to Connor’s father. We chatted a little about inconsequential things as Marta, our maid, brought in the first course.

Mr. Templeton didn’t even acknowledge her, though.

“Thank you, Marta,” I said, annoyed by his rudeness.

“Yes, thanks, Marta,” Connor echoed, then aimed a pointed look at his father.

Mr. Templeton glanced up, realized he was being peer-pressured, and closed his eyes halfway – the aristocratic equivalent of a teenage girl rolling her eyes. Then he smiled perfunctorily at Marta and returned to his food.

I thought maybe by the fourth course, he would be polite enough to thank her without prompting – but no. He was basically a dick throughout.

I had to remind myself that nobody ever said Mr. Templeton was the nicest human on Earth. I was only trying to get Connor to stop seeing him as the devil.

I forgot, though, that it wasn’t Mr. Templeton that Connor regarded as the devil.

“So, Dad, how do you like having a bitch for a daughter-in-law?” Connor asked.

I glared at my fiancé – No hanky-panky for YOU, mister, if you keep THIS up – then tried to salvage the situation with a light little laugh. “Honey, you really shouldn’t talk about me that way.”

“I wasn’t, but let me rephrase: how do you like having a raving psychopath for a daughter-in-law?”

Mr. Templeton didn’t even look up as he cut a piece of lamb chop from the bone. “I don’t.”

Silence.

Connor and I sat there, stunned, as Mr. Templeton ate his piece of meat and sipped his glass of $9000 wine.

Finally Connor spoke. “I didn’t expect you to come out and say it quite that plainly.”

“You’ll find I’m full of surprises.”

“I guess you are. So – what? Has she been razzing you about leaving the toilet seat up?”

Mr. Templeton gave his son a reproachful look. “There have been… issues.”

“What kind of issues?”

“It’s obvious she’s positioning herself to take over the Templeton Group.”

The Templeton Group was the family empire – a conglomerate of corporations that the family owned, which Connor had been shut out of when he went rogue years ago and started his own competing businesses.

Connor’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Awww… you mean that she didn’t just marry Vincent for love?”

I gritted my teeth. There was no use trying to reign Connor in. Basically the only option left to me was to enforce my ‘no nookie’ ban for his bad behavior.

Mr. Templeton glared at his son. “I would think you of all people would not treat this as a joking matter.”

Connor smirked. “Why? Because I’m going to love watching her tear you guys apart?”

“No. Because she’s going to use the resources of my various companies to tear you apart.”

That was it. The gauntlet had been thrown down. The knives were out, and playtime was over.

“And you’re going to sign off on it,” Connor sneered.

Mr. Templeton returned to eating his meal. “No, I won’t. But she’ll do it after I’m gone.”

The offhanded casualness of the comment threw me.

It threw Connor, as well. After all, it’s never easy to hear your father discuss his own death.

There was a shift in the air as Connor switched from open aggression to mild distress. “Don’t talk like that.”

“Why not? We both know the truth. Your mother, strong as she is, isn’t a businesswoman. And Vincent is a weakling. Miranda will overpower them both and ransack everything for her own gains… which will undoubtedly include destroying you.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Connor said. “I meant… don’t talk about it like you’re going to die soon.”

Mr. Templeton looked amused. “Why not? You don’t care.”

Connor frowned. “That’s not true.”

His father sat there contemplatively for a few seconds before he answered. “You did save me in Mexico.”

“I did.”

The older man narrowed his eyes. “Why? I never asked you that. Why did you do it?”

Connor took a long time to answer. When he finally did, the expression on his face wasn’t one of love or affection; it was one of discomfort.

“…you’re my father.”

There were a few more seconds of silence. Then Connor cleared his throat. “And quit talking about dying. You’re not going anywhere.”

“One never knows. You had a brush with death, as I recall.”

Connor looked grateful for the chance to return to sarcasm. “Yeah… thanks to your daughter-in-law.”

Mr. Templeton concentrated on his food and refused to look up at us.

“Not even going to defend her, huh?” Connor smirked. “I guess that’s progress.”

“I don’t know if she did it or not,” Mr. Templeton said quietly. “But I do know now, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she is entirely capable of such a thing.”

Connor glanced over at me. For a man who prided himself on his poker face, the look of surprise on Connor’s face was remarkable.

I remembered what Mr. Templeton had said to me in the hospital, after Connor had been shot by a mysterious assassin:

I am terrified that I might have actually brought the devil himself into my house… You have to make sure he knows that I never would have done anything like this. His mother, his brother – none of us knew what lengths she might go to.

I knew back then that Mr. Templeton had been worried about Miranda. But Connor had never believed me. Oh, he believed me that his father had said those things – but he thought they had been calculated for some effect, some Machiavellian plot.

Now I could see that he thought differently.

“Lock her out of the company,” Connor said.

“It’s not that easy.”

“Augustus Templeton is telling me it’s ‘not that easy’ to get rid of a competitor?” Connor said mockingly.

It was strange that the tone of the conversation had turned from Connor attacking his father, to now provoking him into action to protect the family empire.

I would never have predicted that at the beginning of the meal.

Mr. Templeton sighed. “She’s related to me now.”

Connor’s face darkened. “That didn’t stop you from disinheriting me.”

Mr. Templeton looked his son directly in the eyes. “I never thought you might kill me.”

For the second time that night, Connor and I were shocked into silence.

Connor finally asked, “Are you serious?”

“The thought has crossed my mind.”

“Jesus… then you have to get rid of her. Immediately.”

“As long as she can persuade Vincent to take her side – which shouldn’t be too difficult, given her charms and his… less capable faculties – she will always exert influence in the company.”

“I don’t believe I’m hearing this. Do you really want to see your legacy fall into the hands of a monster?”

“No,” Mr. Templeton said wearily. “No, I don’t.”

“Then you have to do something.”

I saw a flicker of annoyance in Mr. Templeton’s face. He obviously wasn’t happy having anyone tell him what to do – especially his estranged son. “I’m looking into the matter.”

Connor frowned. “What are you thinking of doing?”

What followed was one of those classic movie moments, where Mr. Templeton opened his mouth as though to speak… and then something in his eyes shifted. After a short pause, he closed his mouth and smiled.

“I’m tired of talking about the daughter-in-law I detest. Let’s talk about the one I look forward to starting a relationship with.” He looked at me kindly, and raised his glass in a toast. “Let me be the first to welcome you into our family.”

I was overcome with emotion, and choked up as I raised my glass.

“Unfortunately, I think you’re going to be the last one to welcome her,” Connor muttered, but he raised his glass, too.

My fiancé almost ruined the moment, though it was darkly funny.

Not to mention true.