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“I don’t need an explanation,” he said coolly, his gaze skating over my face as if he couldn’t quite bear to look at me. “I erased the footage after what little I saw so that no one else could ever get their hands on it, since I refuse to let my daughter’s indiscretions be used as blackmail against her. But you clearly think of yourself as an adult now, so from here on out, I will treat you as one. That means no more coddling. No more softening unpleasant realities of life to make them more palatable for you. You don’t always get what you want, and it’s high time you learned that.”

His face remained carefully impassive, but I could hear rage simmering in his voice.

Shame tried to rise up in me, but it was overwhelmed by my anger and helplessness as I listened to my father’s words. He didn’t care if I cheated on Barrett, or if Barrett cheated on me. He didn’t care that he was setting me up for a lifetime of unhappiness in a loveless marriage. He had made his decision, and he would stand by it like a stone sentinel no matter what.

“You’re dismissed,” he said, settling back into his chair and picking up the papers he’d set down as if we hadn’t just had this conversation.

I gazed at him in shock for a moment, then forced my body into motion and turned to leave.

Just as I reached the door, his voice came from behind me again.

“Oh, and Cordelia? I didn’t need your help to get out of prison. Things were well in hand before your meddling.”

Seven

He should still be in prison.

My feet felt like lead as I walked away from my father’s office, and that singular thought wouldn’t leave my head. It burrowed into my mind like a tick, like a parasite, refusing to leave.

He should still be in prison.

I had spent weeks agonizing over the question of whether or not my father was guilty. Not just of the crimes for which he’d been arrested, but of being cruel and callous in business. He had openly admitted to making choices that had ruined the lives of people like Bishop’s parents, but back when he’d been stuck behind bars—back when he’d still needed my help, as much as he might deny it now—he had promised me that he wanted to do better.

I could see that now for the lie it was, and it hurt my soul to know that I was seeing my father clearly for the first time.

With no artifice.

With none of his charm covering up his calculating nature.

I was seeing just how far he would go to get what he wanted. He’d always been willing to hurt strangers as he built his business empire, willing to sacrifice their happiness for his own. For his family’s benefit.

And maybe he was convincing himself that this marriage arrangement was for all of us, that it was truly best for our whole family. But more and more, I believed that he was doing it only for himself.

He should still be in prison.

The thought made me sick. Josephine had been right when she’d acknowledged that nothing was ever simple or clear-cut when it came to family. Because even now, despite everything he’d done, there was a part of me who still hoped for redemption for my father. Who still held out a foolish belief that he might change, or that he might reveal he’d been a better person than I thought all along.

That there was a reason for all of this madness that actually made sense.

Tears blurred my vision as I made my way down the hall, heading for the door that led to the garage. My gut churned with horror at the idea of what my father had seen, that he knew about the Lost Boys. I’d been about to tell him about them when he had sprung the fact that I was engaged to Barrett on me, and ever since then, I’d been careful never to mention them.

Because my father was proving himself to be colder and more calculating than I had ever imagined possible. And if he knew how much those three boys meant to me, there was a very real possibility he would use it against me. That he would threaten them to gain my compliance.

I couldn’t let that happen.

My heart fluttered in my chest like a panicked bird as I slid into my Aston Martin and pulled out of the garage. I had a sudden urge to hit the road and keep driving, to go as far and as fast as I could before my parents realiz

ed I was gone.

It felt like a noose was slowly closing around my neck, and I had the strange and terrifying feeling as I drove down the wide streets of our neighborhood that I was about to be locked away in a tower, never to be seen by the world again.

I drove blindly at first, not even paying attention to where I was going. And by the time I shook off the worst of my haze and paid attention to my surroundings, I was already headed across town.

Digging into my purse, I pulled out my phone and called Bishop, my hand shaking as I brought it to my ear. It rang twice before he answered, and I could hear the worry in his voice as he spoke.

“Hey, Princess. You okay?”

“No.”

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