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‘No! I don’t know.’
‘You keep saying that, and yet all signs point to you hiding something.’
Her mouth worked for several seconds, before she blew out a breath. ‘Fine, if you must know, I hadn’t spoken to my father in years before I heard from him two weeks ago.’
He tensed. ‘Why not?’
‘That is definitely none of your business,’ she snapped, her fingers spearing into her hair again and tossing the heavy tresses over her shoulder. ‘But I did try to find out about the money the few times we spoke afterwards. He assured me there were no strings attached. That it was mine to use. And when a few more sponsors dropped me...’
‘You went ahead and used it, without a single thought as to its true source?’
‘You might automatically suspect everyone you meet to have nefarious motives, but the father I knew before we...lost touch was hard-working and honest. I don’t know what you did for him to—’
‘Excuse me?’ Her audacity stunned him. ‘Are you trying to wheedle your way into somehow blaming me for this?’
‘My father isn’t here to account for what’s happened, is he?’
‘No,’ Draco muttered, a daring solution to the conundrum he’d been toying with taking root and firming in his mind. ‘He’s not. But you are.’
Her eyes widened. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
He stared into the clear depths, unable to pull his gaze away. ‘It means the sins of the father will have to be paid for by the daughter. Especially when she’s turned out to be a direct beneficiary.’
‘Right. Hold that thought for a second.’ She turned and walked to the sound system. She toyed with a few buttons before pressing one. About to warn her against restarting the ear-bleeding music when they weren’t finished talking, Draco stopped when low, sultry, Middle Eastern fusion music flowed into the room. He stared, his gaze compelled by the sinuous movement of her body as she returned to where he stood. ‘I’m afraid I’m not interested in whatever plans you’ve concocted, Mr Angelis.’
His fists balled harder in his pockets. ‘By all means refuse if you feel you’re in a position to. I’ll bring myself to wait.’
Her mouth curved in a ghost of a smile. ‘No need to wait. I have a plan in mind for how you can get your money back.’
Not what he’d been expecting. Or what his new plan entailed. But... ‘I’m listening.’
‘My manager has received a request for me to star in a reality TV show after the championships are over. I wasn’t going to accept, but, since I now have no choice, I’ll hand over the proceeds from the gig to you—’
‘No.’ The word shot out of him with a brevity that rocked him.
She blinked. ‘Umm...what?’
‘I said no.’
‘I heard you. I just don’t understand why you’d refuse, seeing as it’s my life and I can do what I want with it. Also, I thought all this posturing and threatening was so you’d get your money back?’
‘Not in three months’ time. And not after you’d whored yourself in front of a camera to repay me.’
She inhaled sharply. ‘You did not just say what I think you said.’
‘Isn’t that what it amounts to? You opening your life to intense scrutiny until every dirty scumbag out there knows what brand of toothpaste you use and what you wear to bed at night?’
‘It isn’t that type of show—’
‘They are all that type of show. If you think otherwise, you’re naive as well as stupid.’
‘And you’re an arrogant ass, who’s under the illusion he can dictate to me. I don’t doubt that you wield a lot of power in the sports world.’ She laughed self-mockingly. ‘You’ve already shown you can strip me of my sponsors, although I’m still not completely sure why, but I’m damned if I’m going to give you power over my personal life. You don’t agree to my proposal, then fine, have me thrown in jail. Although how that gets you back your money is beyond me.’
Draco looked down at her, a small part of him unwillingly intrigued by her relentless fire. It spoke to a part of his nature that wasn’t relevant any longer. These days he harnessed his cold passion to controlling his empire. And to ensuring Maria wanted for nothing. Any other emotion was superfluous.
The reminder of his sister brought him back to reality.
‘You’re bluffing. People like you love the good life too much to bravely accept a jail term, but before you deny it, tell me, are you willing to risk your father going to prison for his crimes?’
