Page 147 of Priceless

But he still hadn’t noticed my presence.

“You wanted to talk to me?”

Frank looked up, startled. “Oh. Yes. Come in, Ocean.”

I closed the door gently behind me.

“I need those numbers.”

Walking over to where his fireplace was lit despite the summer heat, I looked around his study with fresh eyes. There were papers spread around one of the armchairs, like he was splitting his time between there and his desk. It was messy. Like he’d been in here for days.

I crossed my arms and gave him a look. “We had a discussion before I left on my honeymoon where I said I wouldn’t be doing that.”

“Now is not the time to toy with me or be a brat. I need those numbers, and you fucking agreed to get them for me. So you’re going to follow through. I specifically told you I needed them when you returned.”

“I never agreed to that.”

Rage contorted his features. “Don’t fucking play with me.”

“I’m not. I never agreed to get anything for you. You informed me that you needed the numbers, and I walked out without saying anything. When you told me that I would have to get information for you the first time and I said ‘sure,’ I only said that to get the fuck out of your office. No papers had been signed, and I knew that whoever you’d set me up with wouldn’t be dumb enough to let their fake wife near any confidential information.”

He opened his mouth, and I surged ahead. “And if you’re about to tell me that I signed a contract that agreed to it, check what you actually had me sign. Because it says fuck all about whatever corporate espionage bullshit you’re trying to pull off on my husbands. It says I had to stay married for a year to get my trust. No more and no less.”

Based on what my husbands had said about him, it seemed like Frank wasn’t in the habit of fully reading and comprehending his contracts.

I thought he might pass out with the color he was turning. The drawer he ripped open nearly fell out of his desk. I’d never seen him so angry, and my gut twisted. My uncle wasn’t a violent man that I knew of. But I’d also never pushed him this far.

Enough was enough.

Frank’s hands shook as he looked at the contract we’d signed. A shiver of fear went through me and I forced it down.

“If, for some reason, you thought I would do it out of the kindness of my heart and because I’m your niece, I have some news for you. You and Laura have never treated me as anything more than a rock stuck in your shoe. So if you want me to help you, invent a fucking time machine.”

He looked at me smoothly, anger cooling down into something harder and darker. “You think I couldn’t do more? I could ruin whatever fantasy life you’ve created for yourself with the DuPonts and have you back here under my thumb in ten seconds.”

“Then do it.” I dared him. “Do it. Because I don’t think it’s true. You might have my money and my home by the balls, but you do not have me. You will never have me again, and my husbands will tell you that themselves.”

“Are you so sure?” From that same drawer, he pulled a large envelope and tossed it to me. “The DuPonts married you to solve their image problem. What do you think happens when a wave of press hits you like you’ve never seen? Feel free to keep them. I have copies.”

My heart dropped. Inside the envelope were pictures, and I immediately knew who had taken them. The asshole photographer who wouldn’t stop following us.

The picture on top was from that brunch with Trinity and Isolde, me taking a bite of cake. It was taken at an unflattering angle, almost intentionally.

The rest of the pictures were the same. From all over our honeymoon, all the photos bad. Taken from angles intended to make my body look horrific. Playing into every stereotype and harmful idea that clung to fat people—fat women—like glue.

I swallowed.

Knowing that I was worthy of living my life and finding love and being free despite the size of my body didn’t erase the pain of these. Too many years of brainwashing and media telling me that I was wrong had done their damage. And yes. It would hurt to see these go to the media. But it wouldn’t do anything to me or my husbands. I believed that now.

The fact that they were waiting for me and would be overjoyed to see me was the thing that allowed me to slip the photos back into the envelope and meet my uncle’s eyes. “Go ahead. Do your worst. It’s not anything I haven’t already dealt with.”

“Those aren’t everything. I have more. I promise, Ocean, I can ruin you.”

My body shook with adrenaline, but I held my ground. “The answer is still no.”

Frank strode toward me. Pain cracked through my face, the force of the blow sending me reeling. The second blow was excruciating. I lost my balance and fell, photos flying out of the envelope in a twisted kind of rain.

He loomed over me, face poison. I’d never seen him like this. It was both rage and desperation. A dangerous combination. Terror clutched me with black claws. If he was willing to hit me now, when he never had before, I didn’t know what he’d do or how far he’d go.

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