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Chapter 1
Isabel
22 Years Old
“Ms. Steele, is it trueyou and your father had a contentious relationship?”
Isabel stared at the lawyer and wondered how many times she’d have to go through this.
Then she thought of her sisters, thought of her mother, dead and cold in the ground, thought of the endless reports unearthed after she agreed to cooperate with Miles Hawkins and the investigation of her father, an investigation that had involved numerous international intelligence agencies as well as the FBI, the CIA, and DHS.
How many times would she do this? If it kept Wilson Steele locked up, she’d do it every day for the rest of her life.
“Yes.” She met the attorney’s gaze. “We had acontentiousrelationship. He locked me in a room for three weeks after I refused to marry—”
“Your Honor, please ask the witness to focus on the questions asked.”
Isabel wanted to yell at him, blacken his cool eyes and break his nose. Instead, she looked at the judge. “Your Honor, he asked me about my relationship with my father. Almost every teenager thinks they’ve got it rough. But how many have actually been locked up by their ownfathersforrefusingto marry?”
“Your Honor—”
The judge gave him a flat look and lifted a hand. “You asked the question, Mr. Rheingold. The statement stands.”
He tried again, going at Isabel from several angles. But she’d prepared for this, the same way she’d once prepared for track and field events, turning that dedication to honing her emotional control so she wouldn’t break for worms like this.
His eyes took on an avid gleam and Isabel knew the next question was going to be bad. Very bad.
Clenching her hands into tight fists, she let her nails bite into her palms, that small pain grounding her as Rheingold started to speak.
“Were you arrested five years ago for attacking your father, Ms. Steele?”
“Yes.” She stared at him, unblinking.
“You broke his nose and knocked him down, causing him to strike his head on a desk. He needed stitches and suffered a concussion. Is that correct?”
“Yes.” Her voice started shaking as the memories of that slammed into her.
“And is it also correct that he had to have his own security personnel restrain you? His own daughter?”
The faux horror in the lawyer’s voice made her want to vomit. But when she opened her mouth, what came out was laughter—near hysterical laughter.
