Page 11 of Cruel Dominion

“My daughter, Anna, who is back home and ready for the next phase in her life. Law School.”

My mouth fell open. “Not this again, Dad.”

“If you don’t like it you’re welcome to go back to wherever you came from. I don’t suppose you used your time away to get any other sort of reputable degree?”

I clamped my mouth shut.

He snorted, the words I didn’t think so practically written all over his face. “David is waiting downstairs to take you to your appointment.”

He turned to the door, stopped, and turned around again.

“Dr. Brandt will come by this evening,” he added.

I took a slow, deep sip of my latte. Dr. Brandt was the go-to concierge physician for rich people with something to hide. Anyone who needed a Xanax prescription or to get their teenage daughter an abortion called him.

I didn’t need either, but I knew I wasn’t a picture of health and wellness.

This was as close to tenderness as my father got. He cared that something happened to me, but he cared more that we were going to be seen in public together, and he needed to make sure I looked good.

“I trust the problem you encountered in St. Louis won’t be following you home?”

My mouth went dry.

“No.”

“Good.”

I watched his retreating back until he disappeared, standing up on shaking legs to pick up the garment bag and walk it to my closet, sticking it on an empty spot on one of the dress racks. I unzipped the top part to peek inside. It was a lilac, floor-length gown with long sleeves and a low back. Very elegant, but not me at all. My mom insisted the color suited me and dressed me in it often, but I always thought I looked better in warmer or richer hues.

For half a second, I wondered what would have happened if I’d stayed here. If I tried harder to be perfect. Memories of my mother’s empty wine and champagne bottles every brunch and dinner came to mind. It didn’t matter if I tried harder because it was impossible.

There would always be a higher tier to try to attain, just out of reach.

I wasn’t staying here a second longer than I needed to once I figured out my next move. And that move was sure as shit not law school.

Checking my phone, there were some messages from a number I didn’t recognize. I tapped the first one.

Unknown: You blocked me? Grow up.

I didn’t read the rest, blocking that number too.

I changed into a black, long-sleeved blouse and straight-leg jeans from the Hudson Vaughn approved wardrobe, making sure my splotchy neck and arms were covered in a gauzy Burberry scarf before heading downstairs to the waiting car.

So many things had changed in a landscape once so familiar. Somehow it was a comfort to know that I wasn’t the only thing that didn’t remain constant here. Not everything was structured. Boring. Restricting.

There was only one thing in my life that felt real in that terrifyingly uncertain way.

…meeting Carter was more than just a breath of fresh air, it was finally breathing.

I picked my fingernails, annoyed at how he kept pressing his way into my thoughts. Embarrassing, really. I would bet a good chunk of change he hadn’t even thought about me once since we last met. Between all those European women he was photographed with at business events and galas, how would he even find the time?

David dropped me off and said he would wait for me. I resented that being my father’s daughter came with those perks, as much as I was grateful for them. I walked into the salon and went to the desk, telling the receptionist I had an appointment.

“What name is that under?”

“Vaughn. Hudson maybe. Or Annie. I mean Anna,” I corrected quickly. Annie Taylor was Josh’s girlfriend who lived in St. Louis. I was Anna Vaughn.

I am Anna Vaughn.

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