I'd told myself I wanted to be honest with her. I'd just told myself only moments ago that I didn't want to hide anything from her anymore. So, I took a deep breath and answered her.
"Yes," I said plainly.
She scrunched up her face and nodded, her expression difficult to interpret.
I rejoined her on the couch. She immediately went back to doctoring my hand. I assumed that must be a good sign.
"I inherited the title from my father when I inherited the rest of the company. I left a little information out when I told you he passed away. The full truth is that he was murdered," I confessed.
Rebecca briefly looked up from her work to my face, before returning to taking care of my hand. I should explain to her that this was far from the first time I'd split my knuckles in a fight, and this
