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Six
Amethyst
I wanted to scream,rage, demand he take me to my baby this instant or face my wrath.
I did nothing.
Just sat meekly in the SUV, not making a sound.
“You’re usually such a chatterbox, Amy,” my father said.
“Well, you always found that an irritating habit. Maybe I finally figured out how to rein it in,” I said.
“I guess I should thank Davit for that,” my father said.
I just shrugged, reminding myself not to play with him, to keep focused on what mattered, and that was Crystal.
“I have to ask you, Amy,” he said.
I was looking out of the window but heard the expectation in his voice.
Unlike before, I didn’t immediately jump to comply, give him what he wanted. First, I had to take a few seconds to center myself, make sure that I had a tight grip on my emotions.
Once I was sure I did, I turned to face him, and after a moment he continued. “How did you get Davit to marry you? I don’t get it. The man could have anyone he wanted, but he chose you,” my father said.
His brows were knitted together, and his expression was one of both confusion and awe. His expression, his confusion, should have offended me.
It didn’t.
His question, his disgust, was only another demonstration of the things that I had chosen to overlook my entire life. And right now, I didn’t even care enough to regret that. Maybe I would later, but for now, I kept focused on what I needed to do. And the first thing was to answer him. I knew he expected an answer, knew he wouldn’t let it go until I gave him one.
“He might love me,” I eventually said.
He snorted. “He might, though given what I know about his family, that would be surprising.”
“What do you know about them?” I asked, curious for his perspective and knowing he wouldn’t miss a chance to show off.
“They’re criminals. Thugs. Killers,” he said, his disgust palpable.
I didn’t point out that he had kidnapped a fucking newborn to, as best as I could guess, get something from those “criminals.”
He would either miss the irony of that or not appreciate me pointing it out, so I stayed silent.
Eventually, my father shrugged and went on. “But I still have to thank you. Without you, I never would have had this amazing opportunity.”
“And what opportunity is that?” I asked.
“Well, Davit and his little smuggling operation gave me a taste of what I could have. Now, I’m about to get the whole pie.”
He looked positively gleeful, and I was suddenly terrified.
I seldom saw this side of my father, because he was often content to lord it around James Industries and be a big fish in his little area of the shipping industry.
But I’d always known he saw himself as great, and to see that vision—or delusion—of grandeur on full display only underscored how much danger Crystal, and I, were in.
“What does that mean, Daddy?” I asked.
Uttering those words and in that tone was revolting, but I ignored that feeling, the way it lingered on my tongue like a bad taste.
