Page 44 of Cruel Dynasty

“I guess because I moved around so much. Plus, she always made sure bills were paid. She was even the one who convinced me to agree to Tod Belmond’s offer.”

“How did she do that?” He changed lanes, clearing a path through the slower vehicles so that he could put his foot on the gas.

“She told me I was crazy if I turned it down.”

“Remind me to send her a fruit basket,” he said, chuckling.

“Why is that funny?”

“It’s just hard to imagine anyone convincing you to do anything.”

“You did,” I pointed out.

“Don’t confuse blackmail with persuasion,” he advised me.

“At least, you know you’re blackmailing me.”

Holden was quiet for a moment, when he finally spoke, his voice was soft. “I know I’m the villain of your story.”

“You don’t have to be,” I whispered.

“Someone has to be.” He smirked, but it felt wrong. Forced. He was putting on a show for me. But why? Before I could suss out what he was up to, he asked his next question, “If you could be anything, what would it be?”

“A painter.” The answer slipped easily from my mouth, which hung open on my answer.

“Really?” His reaction mirrored mine.

“I mean, if I could be anything,” I fumbled for a reason that even I didn’t know. “Yeah. I guess so.”

“You sound surprised,” he pointed out.

“I don’t think I’ve ever really thought about it. I haven’t had the luxury,” I admitted.

“So, you paint?” He sounded more interested than in any of my answers so far. I’d forgotten that he’d told me once he liked books and art.

“Not really.” Now I felt a little stupid. He actually knew about art. I was only a pretender. “I’ve never had money for things like art supplies. I just like to doodle.”

“Then why a painter?” he pressed.

I thought of the framed art hanging on the walls of Hensley and Harewood. “When I see a painting, it makes me feel alive. It’s like seeing the world through someone else’s eyes.”

“Interesting,” he said as he exited the highway. I caught a glimpse of a sign for the village of Haworth.

“Why is that interesting?” I asked as I studied the passing countryside for clues as to where we were headed.

“Isn’t that what you’re doing now? Seeing the world through someone else’s eyes?”

I’d never thought about it that way before.

“You should take a painting class,” he continued, “with all the money Tod Belmond is going to give you.”

A grin tugged at my lips as I realized that I could do that. I could travel. I could go to museums. The whole world would be within reach and I could finally leave the past behind me.

“Last question,” he said.

“Are we there?” I peeked out the window but we were still zipping along too fast to make out much.

“Nearly,” he confirmed. “Why did you do it?”