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“Hello, Father,” I say as I answer the phone.
“Have you found anything out yet?” Not even a hello. As always, my father uses me for what he can get out of me. He doesn't care that snooping around Kane's house could get me killed. He doesn't care that it would destroy my marriage too, a marriage that is starting to mean something to me.
“It's customary to start a conversation with some form of fucking pleasantries.”
“Do you really care about the pleasantries?” my father asks, sounding amused. He is right, I don't give a shit about them, but it would be nice if my father asked me how I am, considering he sold me into marriage.
“I'm not going to spy for you. Kane and I have a real chance of making this work.”
There is silence down the line for a moment, as if my father can't believe my words. “You will do your fucking duty to this family.”
“Or what?” I grind out the words, irritation clawing at my skin. He put me in this position. He can't be angry that I'm making the best of it.
“I raised you, Elena. I put food on the table, clothes on your back. You have never wanted for anything in your life, but the moment I ask you to do something, you renege. If I'd known you were such a disloyal cunt, I would never have sent you to marry the Fraser prick.”
“Well, you did, and now you have to live with those consequences. I won't be a part of this. Kane and I—”
“There is only a Kane and you because I allowed it!” he snarls down the line, sounding like a rabid beast. “You disobedient little bitch! Do as you are told.”
“I think I'll pass. Get someone else to do your dirty work.” I end the call and toss my phone onto the sofa next to me, feeling my anger grow. Does he really think he can still control me now that I'm not under his roof anymore? I thought I wanted my father's approval. I tried so hard to get it over the years and never managed it. He hated that I was a girl. If I had been a son, things would have been different, but he treated me like a second-class citizen the entire time. My only duty was to get married, and now that I am, he wants things from me that I can't give him. I already feel a sense of loyalty towards Kane. Not his family. I don't give a shit about Charlotte and Anthony. Particularly Charlotte. My mother-in-law is a bitch of the highest order. But I do care about Kane. Even in the short amount of time we have been together, I feel things for him.
The door opens, surprising me. Kane is standing in the doorway, and there is anger in his face. I had no idea he was in the house. All this week he has come home late.
I come to my feet, my chest heaving. Panic claws at me. Did he hear my conversation?
“Kane…”
“You were sent here to spy.”
I fold my arms over my chest, feeling defensive in the moment, even though I'm in the wrong. “Listening to my conversations is spying on me.”
He doesn't address this, nor deny it. Instead, he moves to the window, and I can see the tension in every line of his body. “What did your father want you to find out?”
An ugly feeling spread through me. He's hurt. I have hurt him, a man I didn't think could be wounded. He is bleeding right now, and that makes me feel terrible. All week we have been getting closer, finding common ground. Things were going so well. I felt at ease with him and he with me, but right now I can feel a chasm growing between us that I don't know if I can cross.
“Kane,” I repeat his name, as I try to gather my chaotic thoughts. “It's not what you think.”
My heart is racing, beating frantically against my sternum. Nausea climbs up my throat, wanting to burst out of my mouth. I had no idea this would feel so bad, but I hate myself for even making him doubt me for a second.
Kane turns to look at me, his eyes blazing. There is none of the usual softness he has for me there. This man is the same as the one who greeted me at my engagement party.
Every stride forward that we have made feels like it has been pulled back. The mistrust is clear in every line of his face.
“I heard everything! Don’t stand there and lie to me.”
“Then your heard me say I wouldn’t do it!”
He steps into my space, forcing me to move back or be crowded. My back hits the wall as one of his hands goes above my head, the other just above my hip. “You came into this marriage expecting to betray me. That’s what I heard.”
Desperation claws at me. “That's not what's happening. If you listened to the conversation, you'd hear that I told my father no. I told him—”
“What did he want you to find out?” He cuts me off. “What secrets were you to betray?”
He is inches from me, and although I don't fear he will hurt me—at least, I don’t think so—I know he is more than capable. He could bury me in the deepest, darkest hole and no one would ever find my body. I would be a footnote in history, forgotten. I live with a killer, and I forgot that in the haze of our emotions.
I try to move past him, feeling claustrophobic at the way he is hemming me in. “Fucking back off,” I hiss. I haven’t done anything wrong, so I’m not going to stand here and take shit off him.
“You’re lucky I don’t slit your fucking throat right here and now,” he snarls. “I’ve killed men for smaller betrayals.”
