Page 63 of They All Own Me

"Yeah?" Connor answers, his eyes following my movement across the room. "Hold on, I'll put you on speaker."

Isaac's accented voice fills the space. "Just wanted to explain what we saw. Your mother and father were heading into Thomas's suite with some people in tow in some serious-looking suits."

"Of course they were." I rake my fingers through my hair. "Probably orchestrating another backroom deal."

"We're gonna dig deeper, see what we can find out," Isaac replies.

Connor clears his throat. "I'll stay here and run some shit through the system, that way I'm still here with you If something happens and I need to intervene."

"Right, because my father's totally going to send a hit squad after his own daughter." I let out a bitter laugh. "That would require him actually remembering he has one."

"We're not taking chances," Connor says firmly. "Not with you."

The intensity in his voice makes my stomach flip. "Fine. But I want to know everything you find out. Every dirty little secret, every crooked deal - all of it."

"Course we'll tell you everything," Isaac assures me. "Gotta go - Dom's signaling. Stay alert."

The line goes dead, leaving me alone with Connor and the weight of betrayal pressing down on my chest.

I follow him down to his study, my stomach churning with a mix of anger and anticipation. He slides into his chair, fingers flying across the keyboard while I hover behind him, watching lines of code and data scroll past.

"Your father's company has some interesting subsidiaries," Connor mutters, clicking through screen after screen. "Shell corporations nested inside shell corporations."

"Daddy always said diversification was important." My voice drips with sarcasm. "I just didn't realize he meant money laundering."

Connor pulls up a document and zooms in. "Look at this. Three days before your wedding, your father's company received a ten million dollar 'consulting fee' from Thomas's family trust."

"They literally sold me." My hands grip the back of his chair. "Ten million dollars. That's what my life was worth to them."

"There's more." Connor's jaw tightens as he scrolls. "Every quarter since then, similar payments have been flowing through various channels. All traced back to your father's accounts."

"So not only did they sell me once, they're getting regular payments to keep their mouths shut about whatever Thomas is involved in." The room spins slightly. "They're getting rich off my misery."

"These numbers..." Connor points to a series of transfers. "They spike whenever Thomas makes certain political moves.Your father's been pulling strings, using his connection through you to influence votes."

I lean closer, scanning the dates. "That explains why they always showed up for photo ops right before major legislation. They weren't there to support me - they were there to remind Thomas who owned him."

"Your father's smart," he says, pulling up another screen. "But not smart enough. He left breadcrumbs."

I pace the room like a caged tiger, my mind racing with possibilities. The perfect politician's wife is dead. Time to show them exactly who they created.

"I want to destroy them all." My voice comes out steady, cold. "Not just Thomas. My father, my mother - everyone who treated me like a commodity."

Connor looks up from his laptop. "What's your play Tate?"

"I don't know yet." I tap my fingers against the desk, years of repressed anger fueling my planning. "I need to meditate."

"Okay Olivia Benson." Connor's eyes glint with appreciation. "You're kind of scary when you're plotting revenge." His voice holds a note of admiration.

"They made me this way." I straighten up, squaring my shoulders. "Might as well use it against them."

Connor stands up, the chair swiveling as he pushes it back. He walks over, his movements predatory and smooth. I can’t help but notice how his muscles ripple under his shirt. "You wanna take your anger out on me?" His voice is low, a challenge wrapped in silk.

My breath hitches. "And how exactly do you suggest I do that?"

His hand slides around my waist, pulling me close until our bodies are pressed together. His lips find mine, urgent and demanding. The kiss sends a shockwave through me, melting away some of my anger.

I try to cling to it. "Connor, I’m serious."