“Keep talking shit,” I clench my jaw, “it’s going to be a joy to shut you up.”

As he focuses on Jenica, I continue pushing against the rope around my chest. It has loosened some, and the tape beginning to give.

“I really wanted to place that crown on her head,” he says with feigned regret. “That is a pageant judge’s honor, after all. But when she chose your father, she sealed her fate. A life of unfilled dreams that she passed to you.”

Jenica is strong, but the truth when it hurts can be crushing, and I see it grinding her down right before me. Dreams were once all she had, and lost dreams sting, even to the girl with more strength than anyone I know. That’s why I know hearing Richardson took her mother’s dreams away, cuts deep. I need to get out of this chair. Shut up that sleazy mouth before he shatters her beyond repair.

“But maybe there is a winner in your family, after all, Ms. Miller. You have just bagged Senator Warren Clegg, the soon to be GOP candidate in this year’s Presidential election.”

“Candidate?” I question. “The GOP already announced their candidate. The debates have begun.”

Richardson turns to me, looking both surprised and impressed. “You watch the news?”

“Go to hell,” I roll my eyes.

“Clegg will step in when the current candidate is no longer able to run,” he explains. “A series of unfortunate secrets will come to light, forcing the GOP to shift their support to Clegg.”

“What do I have to do with it?” Jenica asks, brow furrowed in confusion.

“You are my prize,” he grins. “Like the others, you are a piece on the chess board. With my girls in place, you each will pull the levers to the most powerful democracies in the world.”

I don’t like the way he’s looking at her. If evil had a face, it would be the asshole standing across from me.”How does being a pimp give you power?”

He turns to me, flashing a vicious smile. “When Clegg is voted into office, I will have the leader of the free world in my pocket, young buck.”

“So this is about Elmhurst?” I shake my head. Cruz was right. They didn’t take that shit lying down. Richardson has been lying in wait this whole time, waiting for the moment to strike back, and he’s using Jenica to do it.

“No,” he laughs. “This is not about Elmhurst. This is about the world.”

“The world?” I repeat.

“Ex Multis Paucis. A dream that did not die when that little bitch, Ellery Magnolia Butler, decided to bite the hand that has fed her. It lives on with a bigger, better purpose. One all those with the blood of Elmhurst will drive and fulfill in the years to come.”

This guy is crazy. He sounds like a dictator. And we’ve all seen what happens when men with evil machinations come into power.

“With the end of the Cold War a new day awaits,” he continues proudly. “One where a world is united under one order, and you, Ms. Miller, will help me keep the leader of one of its most important nations in line to ensure that every dream, every desire I have is fulfilled.”

“Why me?” her voice shakes.

“Why not you?” he counters. “You would do anything to save your friends and family would you not? You were the pawn that fell into my hands. A gift that keeps on giving. And you will give Clegg anything he wants. And when you do, he will in turn give me what I want.”

“So your agreement?” she swallows. “It was all just a ploy to get me here?”

“Mmm, yes,” he confirms. “I needed my customers to see the merchandise and drive up the bids.”

“You can sell her.” My eyes widen in horror. “She is not some piece of property you can barter.”

“Oh, but I can,” he grins. “Thanks to Petrov and other foreign interests, I have connections all over the world that will curry any favor I ask in exchange for flesh. You would not believe the democracies that have already bought into my vision. It’s incredible what a young girl can buy.”

“I hate you,” Jenica says icily.

“I know you do. But here’s the thing…I hate you too. You took my son away from me. My son!” He brings a fist to his chest, eyes blazing. “You have no idea what that feels like. You have no idea how it feels, to have the spitting image of the woman who broke your heart, break it a second time!”

“I am not my mother!” she shouts back. “I did not wrong you. I did you a service. Your son was sick! He thought he could kidnap and murder innocent girls.”

“Murder?” His brows push up. “My son did not murder anyone.”

“You’re either delusional or stupid. Maybe a little of both because that night, before he died, he confessed. Why don’t you see if that was on the security footage you so gleefully procured?”