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Dad’s validation meant more than I could say. I’d wanted this for so long.
Even so, I was hesitant to accept it too quickly.
“I—I’m sorry that I let her or Stina put such a rift between us,” he said. “How can I ever make it up to you?”
“You believe me?”
“I do. I—I never should have…” He frowned and shook away the thought. “What can I do?”
History dredged up at the admission. More than I cared to admit. It brought pain and heartache right back with it—but I suppressed the feelings.
Dad was here. He was trying to make things right. I could give hima chance to do so.
“If you’re serious,” I began.
“I am. I want you back in my life, Ella Bell.” He took my hands.
If I were going to make my request of him, now was the time. This was just what I hoped might happen. Asking this of him was a huge risk, but if anyone could get inside info on Pris, it would be him.
“Can you keep an ear out for me? She manipulated the security feed to make it look like me. I wasn’t at the building during that time, though. I didn’t do this, Dad.
“So if you overhear her saying anything to Stina, to Derek, or maybe if you hear her mention another person’s name who helped her do this, that would be amazing. I need evidence before I have to stand before the judge, and you could help me get it.”
I lingered, heart pounding.
“I can do that,” he said.
Could I accept his word? I guess I had no other choice.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Don’t want to see you go to jail,” he said with a defeated smile.
He seemed sincere enough. His gaze didn’t waver. He showed no other signs of hesitation or regret, though I watched him for minutes, looking for exactly that.
That settled it. I was going to trust him to help me. I just hoped he would truly back me up rather than go straight to Pris and tell her what had gone down between us.
I guessed only time would tell.
THIRTY-THREE
hawk
Days had passedsince the miserable confrontation with Ella. I still hadn’t been able to make much headway, and neither had Noah, the private investigator I had tailing Priscilla Malus.
Pris went to work, went home, made out with her new fiancé, and stalked wedding stores.
Her movements were boringly ordinary.
Ethan and I had gone over the security footage again and again and again. We’d watched Ella arrive at the ball. I’d watched myself talk to her. I’d witnessed Priscilla attack her and splash wine on her dress.
And I’d relived the whole mesmerizing invitation to change clothes in my office.
Our kisses had even been captured on camera, and while mingling sight with memory pooled heat inside of me, I tried not to let it affect me.
I got several bemused glances from Ethan and the otherguards, though, to which I gave return smirks.
I paced in my office, frowning at the vacant corner by the window where the Christmas tree had been. Clary had wasted no time in having it taken down. I didn’t mind. I had bigger things to worry about.
