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“She won’t answer. She just says she’s fine.”
“Maybe that’s what she is.”
His jaw worked. “I made a lot of sacrifices in my life, Ms. Sullivan. Aoife, unfortunately, was one of them.”
Unease filtered through me. I wasn’t here for a TMI father-daughter sharing session. “You should tell her this. Not me.”
“I intended on telling her that,” he growled. “That’s why I invited her here. Not you.” Davidson scrubbed a hand over his face. “Her mother was the love of my life. Aoife was born of that love. Yet here I am, denying her. Hiding her away like she’s the dirty little secret when she’s the one right thing I’ve ever done in my life.”
“I don’t need to hear this.”
He surged to his feet. “You can’t hold the truth of her identity over me to make me fall in line.”
Meaning someone had already tried…
“That wasn’t my intention,” I told him calmly.
Watching him work himself up over this would have been amusing if he hadn’t skipped over his kid to get into the White House.
“Then you just admitted to crimes to the president for fun?” he drawled.
“I admitted to nothing other than doing a better job than your security services at uncovering the Sparrows’ identities.
"If anything, that shows incompetence on your government’s behalf, not guilt on mine.” With a sniff and a pointed look, I continued, “I’m not trying to make you fall in line. I’m here with a different purpose.
“Let’s face it, your approval rating has never been higher. Not only because of your proactive stance on the Sparrows but because of your wife’s murder. You’ll likely win the reelection.”
“Likely means nothing in the end. Especially if Aoife’s relationship with me is revealed to the press.”
“I assume that you have been threatened?”
“Yes. My chief of staff intercepted a letter—” His jaw clenched as the fury in his eyes lit up his whole face. “I don’t do well with threats, Ms. Sullivan.”
His chief of staff.
Smythe and Foundry were fucking obvious. They had about as much finesse as Kat pulling cartwheels down a hallway.
“What did this letter ask you to do?”
“Resign from reelecting in exchange for discretion regarding Aoife’s parentage.”
“Will you comply?”
“No.”
“Would your chief of staff have known that?”
“Yes. He knows my stance on these things. I don’t do deals with terrorists.”
I almost snorted at the irony—his First Lady had been a part of the goddamn ECD.
Unable to stop myself from smiling, my top lip quirked up at the many layers of his ignorance. “What would you do if I told you that Garry Smythe is a top-ranking Sparrow? One of the highest in the land, even.”
He stilled. “Garry Smythe… as in my top advisor?” he choked out.
“Yes. The name David Foundry ring a bell?”
“Of course! He’s my attorney general—” He rubbed the back of his neck. “The second of your two problems?”
