Page 64 of Bitter Secrets

She flushed. “I can tell time.”

“Then I guess you don’t think this party was important enough for you to fit into your schedule.”

“No, that’s not—"

“Don’t give me excuses. You know I don’t believe in them.”

A server walked past with an empty tray. The woman’s eyes were fixed straight ahead, but Jasmine knew she heard every word. He didn’t bother taking her to a room to lecture her. No, he did it out in the open. That was part of her punishment, to be publicly humiliated. She assumed as she aged that would change, but he still lectured her like she was eight years old, and she felt just as flustered and helpless as she always did. No one stepped in to save her because they would be treated just as severely. It was the reason no one messed with her dad. He was quick to shoot down anyone who got in his way, and that applied to Warren, Parker Baldwin, or her.

“If it was up to me, I would have left you in Philadelphia, but Parker requested your presence. He already sees you as Baldwin and was under the impression that you could arrive on time, be presentable, and make everyone believe Ford wasn’t making a huge mistake.” Glacial blue eyes slid over her. “You failed on every account.”

She looked down. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say that stupid word,” he barked, making her and three passing servers jump. “People apologize and think that’s going to make everything better. It doesn’t. It’s just an excuse to continue doing stupid things. You want to prove you’re sorry? Don’t do anything that would give you a reason to say it in the first place. How about that?”

She held up her hand in wordless defense as his words battered her. She wasn’t prepared for him to grasp her hand and hold it up to the light.

“What the hell is this?”

She shut her eyes, so she wouldn’t have to witness the rage she could hear in his voice.

“You couldn’t even clean yourself to come to my party or—"

The clutch she had under her arm was ripped away. Her eyes flew open in horror, and she even leapt forward to snatch it back, but one look at his face made her freeze in her tracks. He unfastened the clutch, reached in, and withdrew the notebook she’d been frantically writing in all night. He held it up like a damning piece of evidence. A muscle ticked in his jaw.

“What is this?”

“It’s nothing,” she whispered.

“Oh, yeah?”

Her heart stopped as he flipped it open and began to skim the pages. She hoped her sloppy handwriting was too illegible for him to read. She died a thousand deaths as she stood there, every fiber of her being screaming at her to grab that notebook and protect it. When he spoke, the invisible shield that had protected her vanished.

“A girl inherits powers from the mother she’s never met,” he quoted. “This enables her to see things before they happen and gives her the gifts she needs to save her kingdom.”

She couldn’t meet his scathing glare.

“I thought you outgrew this.”

She flinched.

“You weave fantasies around your mother when I’ve told you how disloyal she was, how selfish. Is that who you emulate?”

“No, I…”

“There was nothing exceptional about her. Do you want to follow the path of someone ordinary? Someone easily forgotten and erased from history as if they’d never been? Is that what you want?”

She resisted the urge to shrink back. He had never hit her, but then again, he didn’t have to. His words struck harder and left more damage than a blow.

“You live a privileged life. Do you know how many people would give anything to have a fraction of the opportunities you were born into? You take so much for granted. You have no idea what kind of life you could have had if your mother got her way.”

“Got her way?” she echoed and met his eyes for a split second before she went back to staring at a painting over his left shoulder.

“Your mother was an opportunist, a spoiled brat. She didn’t know when to stop.”

Questions buzzed in her head, but she didn’t dare utter them. The angrier he was, the quieter he became, and nothing instantly pissed him off like her mother. Dad didn’t sit Jasmine on his knee and read her fairytales like most fathers. No. He didn’t allow life lessons to be screened behind tales of dragons, spells, and heroism. He was too pragmatic for that. He told her stories about the mistakes and failures of everyone around them, especially her mother.

“With all the money I spend on your education, this is the best you can do? Write fantasies? Where the hell is that going to take you? You and your sisters are already at a disadvantage being female. You have to work three times as hard as a man to be accepted, respected. Do you understand that?”

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