Page 69 of Twisted Empire

I shrugged nonchalantly. “A whole lot of shit. The worst was about Ben. She tried to tell me that you were the secret witness from the beach and that you even admitted it to her. She said you faked the footage you showed me which proved she killed him, just to make me hate her.”

He sniffed. “How bizarre. That girl has quite an imagination.” Fucking liar. He paused to take another shot. “I can see how that ridiculous story would’ve easily affected you, though. Ben’s death hit you very hard.”

Not so hard now that I know what he was really like,I wanted to say. Instead I gave him a tight smile. “Like I said, Tatum always seemed to know exactly how to manipulate me.”

“Yes, that much is obvious,” he said. His brows knitted in a frown. “We should probably pack it in. It’s already dusk.”

Shit.I needed to keep him out here for longer. I still hadn’t heard a peep from Tatum.

“Having trouble seeing the targets?” I asked, tilting my head to the side as I aimed a mocking smirk at him.

His frown deepened. “As I said, it’s dusk. Of course it’s getting harder to see them. In half an hour it’ll be completely dark out here.”

“Didn’t think you’d turn down a challenge,” I said. “Come on, Dad. One more round. Unless it’s too hard for you.”

His frown remained, but I didn’t miss the smile creeping up his lips. “Fine. One more. But that’s it.”

I turned my head to hide my smirk. I knew he’d take the bait.

He waved to an assistant to help him reload. My phone began to vibrate in my pocket, accelerating my pulse. It was a text message. It’s done. Greer will post the article in five minutes. I’m hiding back down in the Catacombs. Pri is with me.

Finally.

I hurried through the last round of clay targets impatiently, and then I stretched and faked a yawn. “You’re right, it’s getting late,” I said. “We should head back inside.”

“Yes. How about we have dinner at our usual spot on the terrace?” Dad replied. “I would invite you to the party that’s happening right now, but I don’t think the other members are ready to see you yet.”

“I’m probably not ready to see them either,” I replied, feigning an edgy expression. “Let’s just go and have a glass of scotch in your study. We can have a maid bring some food up there. That way we don’t have to see any of the other guys.”

“Should you really be drinking right now, given your problems?” he replied, eyes narrowing.

“Just one glass shouldn’t hurt,” I said smoothly. “It was never alcohol I had an issue with, anyway. Just drugs. Besides, we need to have a celebratory drink, don’t we?”

“What exactly are we celebrating?” he asked. “I’m pleased that you’re back, but don’t think for a second that I’m happy about all the shit you’re putting me through as a result. I’m at risk of losing the presidency.”

“I know. I meant we need to celebrate getting rid of Tatum.”

His rigid posture finally relaxed. “I suppose I can’t say no to that,” he said, another smile turning up the corners of his lips.

We headed back to the mansion and trudged up to his study. I immediately glanced around to see if Tatum had accidentally left anything out of place, but everything looked normal.

My father headed over to a cabinet and gestured toward several crystal decanters of scotch. “Any preference?”

I smiled. “No. You pick.”

He selected the bottle in the middle and poured us two glasses. We sat down by his desk.

I noticed he didn’t start drinking his scotch until I had a sip of mine, but that didn’t surprise me in the least. He still didn’t entirely trust me, so he needed to see me swallowing the exact same liquid that he had in his glass before he’d know it was safe.

“Are you sure you don’t want to eat downstairs?” he asked, staring at me intently.

I shook my head. “There’s a few more things I want to talk about with you, so it’ll be better if we have privacy.”

He furrowed his brows. “I see. What did you want to discuss?”

“Let’s decide on what we want for dinner first,” I said, casually waving a hand. I needed to drag this conversation out as long as possible.

He nodded and picked up the phone on his desk. After a brief discussion with the head of the kitchen staff, he held a hand over the receiver and asked me to pick between three different options.

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