Page 13 of The Passion

“Pardon?” The grumble in his voice tells me he is not impressed with my comment.

“You aren’t paying them a penny. Not until Flynn and I have time to investigate. And let me assure you that if anyone is paying them anything, it will be me, not you!” I clean up my own problems in life. I will never be dependent on my father’s money.

“You and Flynn! You will not speak to that man again. That’s what got you into this problem. He is a disgrace the way he parades around town with a different woman on his arm every week. Ughhh, typical of the company that Darby man keeps. No idea of the way hierarchy works in this country. He is just some Australian who thinks he is somebody because he inherited money. No title, just a scrap of money.”

“Oh. My. God. What a load of absolute bullshit!” I can’t help yelling at him. “You’re a fucking hypocrite.” When I think of the number of women he has been with since my mother divorced him, I would need a spreadsheet to keep them all straight. And as for the way he spoke about money and Nicholas Darby, he just made himself sound like more of an entitled prick than people already think he is.

“Don’t you speak to your father like that. What is wrong with you, Felisha, swearing like you have a gutter mouth. You are a lady, and I expect… no, Idemandyou act like one. You are better than this.”

My whole chest is visibly rising rapidly up and down as I count to ten in my head.

Finally, after slowing my breath down and with my father just staring at me, waiting for my response, I say the only words that are safe right now.

“You need to leave…now.” Before I say something that I’ll regret. Well, maybe regret is the wrong word. Let’s just say words I won’t be able to take back and will carry on my conscience.

“What?” He actually looks confused, which tells me he has no idea what is really going on in this room.

“Leave.” My voice is gravelly, and he probably thinks it is because I’m about to cry, but it’s far from it.

The tension is thick, and after staring at me for a minute or so, he just starts toward the door, opening it, and looking back at me before he steps through it.

“When you’ve calmed down, I’ll be in my office. And don’t kid yourself, your money is still my money, just in your bank accounts.” His gruffness is to tell me he’s leaving begrudgingly.

How dare he say that!

“Do not do a thing about this. Understood?” I yell after him, making my stance on this loud and clear as he walks away.

All I see is his back as he walks down the corridor and not one ounce of acknowledgment of what I said.

I’m about to walk to the door to close it when Harper’s face appears, but I just need space. Shaking my head at her, she nods and steps back, a look of compassion on her face, which all I can think as I push the door closed is why wasn’t that the look on my father’s face?

And why after all he says and does, can I still not hate him like I should?

What is wrong with me?

Part of me knows he is right, that my money has come from being his daughter, but it has also come from my years of hard work. He doesn’t run this business on his own, and to be honest, I have made smart decisions with my money over the years and grown it exponentially from what he has paid me.

Because I have no control of the family finances—well, not yet, anyway.

But on my fortieth birthday, it’s written in the corporation’s bylaws that he has to step aside, and I take control.

Not that it will make any difference. While he is still living and walking the halls of this office, he will continue to demand control. It’s just that then I will have the power and leverage to make the changes that I can see need to happen.

I can’t think about any of that now.

Sadly, the only thing I need to concentrate on is blocking my father’s words from my mind and how to cope with the fact that God knows how many people have already seen me having sex.

A night of intimacy that gave me relief from the real world.

Something I was treasuring, and it had me understanding how people can want more out of life, more than all I’ve ever wanted. I can see how that sort of sex could become addictive… very addictive.

There was an underlying feeling that coursed through my body that night, new and exciting.

But now it’s all gone, and all that’s left is a bitter taste of what my life is about to look like.

The only problem is I don’t have time to sit here, wallowing in my self-pity.

Time to sort this mess out. Snap out of it, bitch, and talk to Sandon. You pay him to be head of your security, so if he’s lucky, he might still have a job when this is finished. But in the meantime, he needs to get on top of what the hell is going on.

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