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I hadn’t been able to get that woman out of my head. Amelia Jansen. She acted like she knew about my father. She had information on my sister. How did she know all that if she wasn't for real?
There's one way to find out.
Today was my scheduled torture session with my father. Dinner at the house followed by his attempts to pull me into business conversations. Which I would avoid. And then of course, there would be a fight.
Except tonight would be different. Tonight I was going to get some bloody answers. I was tired of being controlled.
On the drive to my father's, Westin kept staring at me. Or more specifically my hair. I’d worn it out and curly today.
"No, you can’t touch it. Matter of fact, do you want to take a picture of it for later?"
He blinked rapidly before turning back to face out the window. "Sorry, I just haven't seen you wear it like that before."
"It's called hair."
He cleared his throat and directed his eyes back to the road as he navigated my father’s Maserati Quattroporte over the slick London streets. "Yes. I'm aware. I'm just… It looks… pretty."
I had a retort cued up and ready to launch, but his murmured compliment froze me. I didn't know what to say.
I was already mugged-off about coming back to my father's house in Surrey. I hadn’t planned on seeing him much after he’d refused to listen to me about the bodyguard situation.
Like usual, the drive to my father's filled me with immediate dread.
I did not want to do this.
All he would do was try and push me into a decision I didn't want. I really, really did not want to have the same conversation again.
Just keep fighting him. He can't force you.
He couldn't force me. But short of running away from home, I didn't exactly see a way out.
Well, you have a way out. It's just dangerous.
And I didn't like putting all my faith in someone. I was used to taking care of myself. Trusting that someone else had my best interest at heart was a difficult pill to swallow.
The tires crunched on the gravel as we parked, and I had to force a long, deep breath. I could do this. It wasn't the end of the world; it was just my father.
The main reason that you even need a bodyguard in the first place.
Yes, well, there was that. And I might even be able to get some damn answers.
We were met by Dennis in full livery as always.
I always wished he'd defy my father one day and run to the door in jeans. But he was always perfectly dressed.
We found Julian was in the sitting area.
"My darling daughter. How are things?"
I scowled over at my constant appendage. "They'd be greater if I didn't have leeches attached to me."
Westin smirked then. "I'm hardly a leech."
All I wanted to do was whack the smug look off his face. I could tell that playtime was over though, because my father didn't seem to appreciate our back-and-forth banter.
"So, you're well?"
I breathed a sigh. "Fine."
