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I offered to help Stan set up when he and Veronica returned with another load. As I held a light while he affixed the stand, I nearly dropped it.
Beau returned.
And she’d removed the makeup from her face.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Beau
Veronica gaspedwhen she caught sight of my forehead.
To her credit, she recovered quickly.
The bruise was an ugly purple and yellow.
But it was the truth.
And that was what I wanted the world to see.
The doors opened behind me, Teague and Lincoln nearly knocking me over when they barreled in.
They took one look at the camera and my bare face and all that stared at me was concern.
“What’s Veronica Espisito doing here?” Lincoln asked.
He despised the press because he hated any kind of personal attention. But he was wealthy and handsome. A perfect combination for those greedy for information.
“I asked her to come,” I said. “I have a story to tell, and I need your support.”
Teague slung an arm around my shoulders. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Yes, I do. How many women out there are mentally and physically abused but terrified to speak up? I want them to know they aren’t alone. That they can find the courage to stop the abuse.”
I’d allowed my father to manipulate me all my life because deep down I thought somehow that would make him love me. It was ridiculous and stupid, but it was true. There was someone else who was experiencing the same thing. If I told my story and it inspired one person to break free, it would be worth it.
This wasn’t about exposing my father or Alex.
I was the vice president of an international company. I wasn’t a weak person. But I’d allowed someone else to control me out of fear that I’d be left with no parent at all.
When I’d been across an ocean, outside of my father’s immediate reach, I’d flourished. Yes, I’d done what he asked of me, but I’d had the illusion of some freedom. I’d taken it and run with it. I’d gone after what I wanted. Been bold and brave. Blissfully unaware that I’d been followed the whole time I was there. Watched. But I’d felt free. Autonomous.
The second I’d set foot back in New York, back in his presence, I’d allowed him to steal that from me. I’d become the prisoner I’d been before when I’d lived in his house, trying to remain invisible so as not to upset him, yet wanting to be seen so he could tell me about my mother and just be my dad.
Some things were not meant to be.
That was a harsh reality to accept. It had taken a knock on the head to truly realize things with my father would never change. I had made a valiant effort, but any father who could let someone physically abuse his daughter wasn’t capable of love. Not the kind I wanted.
“We’re ready to begin when you are,” Veronica gestured toward the sitting area.
I took a seat next to Cal. Lincoln and Teague sank down on my other side.
“We’re clear that no video or print that I have not approved will be distributed. If one comma is edited and I’m not notified, you and your publication will be held liable.” I held out my phone with the agreement Zegas had drafted.
“Understood.” Veronica signed with her finger. “You are okay with the entirety of the interview being recorded on video and audio?”
I stuffed the phone under my thigh. “That’s fine.”
She nodded at Stan. He peered at one of the cameras, held up his finger, and adjusted the light. He repeated the process with the camera focused on Veronica.
