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She gives my hand a squeeze, pulling me back from my murderous thoughts. “They’re only words.”
Inside, I’m seething. On the outside, I’m just as cold and calculated as the articles describe me to be. “I expected a different reaction from you.”
What did you really think she would do? Yell? Scream? Cry?
Anything would be better than the current alternative of her trying to reassure me. I don’t deserve it.
“I knew all of this would happen eventually.” She shrugs as if none of this bothers her, but it’s nothing but a lie. Her chin trembles and I find myself fisting my hands on my lap to prevent me from reaching out to comfort her.
Mecomfortingher? I wouldn’t even know where to start with something so ridiculous. “I’ll handle this.”
She raises a brow. “What are you going to do? Defend my honor?”
“At the very least.”
Her laugh eases some of the tension in my muscles. “Please don’t do something stupid because you’re angry.”
“I won’t.”
She lifts a brow. “Or anything that could be deemed a felony.”
“Is it still considered a crime if I don’t get caught?”
Her eyes brighten, chipping away at the icy block of my heart. “Paying your way out of prison isn’t something to show off about.”
“What good is having all this money if I have to follow the law?”
“There are so many things wrong with that statement, I don’t even know where to start.”
“Then don’t.”
Her nose scrunches. “Moving on. We need to be strategic about all of this. I’m sure your grandfather’s lawyer is starting to become suspicious about the legitimacy of everything.”
Whatever good mood she brought about a moment ago is wiped away by her comment. How can she think about the lawyer during a time like this? For fuck’s sake, there were people making death threats toward her.
“I don’t care about the lawyer.” At least not rightnow.
She looks at me like I grew a second head. “Right. Well, regardless of your current opinion on the matter, I have the perfect plan.”
Seeing as her last plan ended up with us being married, I can only imagine how this one will go.
* * *
I consider going over to my father’s house. The temptation to break his jaw rides me hard, but I hold back. Punching him would only make me feel better for a moment while destroying everything he loves will have a much more satisfying alternative.
Growing up being raised by someone like him meant developing the same traits because to survive someone like him, I needed to evolve. I learned through painful trial and error to hold my cards close to my chest because to love something meant to risk losing it. I’ve loved and I’ve lost, and I despise both feelings equally.
A booming voice outside my office door, followed by Iris’s shrill laugh, has me moving to the door and turning the knob. I open it to find Iris and my father in the middle of a death stare contest.
He smirks at me. “Perfect timing. Tell your bitch to heel.”
I only manage a single step before Iris’s fist flies, slamming straight into my father’s jaw. Iris screams as her fist connects with his face. A chill runs down my spine, and I swallow back the acid crawling up my throat at Iris’s cry.
He tests his jaw, rubbing the spot she punched with his palm. “You fucking—”
I see red as I lunge for my father, but my attention shifts when Iris lets out a whimper.
“Ow.” A single tear slips down Iris’s cheek as she checks out her fist.
