Page 13 of Death's Deal

“Your brother is right, Antonia. This was a necessity.” In his perfectly pressed three-piece custom-tailored suit, looking stunning as always, my father paced the room, commanding the air between us all. “We’ve done all we could to get out of this cleanly. I don’t see another way that keeps us free of the blowback.” Abruptly my father stops his pacing, looking down on me with a weak smile. I know he feels his newest conniving plan will work, but I’m sure it won’t. Why would he do this? I had orchestrated his past, changing his future irrevocably.

Adjusting his position on the couch, making the leather and springs squeak, Carlos looks at our father, then back to me. “This will keep us out of the newspapers and out of trouble. Trust in me. Have I ever steered you wrong?”

Yes. You did. This will dredge up my past; a past we had hidden. Everyone will feel the fallout of this. Personally, I still think this is going to get me killed. I don’t say it out loud, but I know it to be true. From the first moment I even spoke of this option aloud, knowing it was a bad idea the second it left my lips, it didn’t mean I agreed with it as a choice. I said it off the cuff, in haste. I’m afraid to see his reaction to me after all this time. Masochistically I actually want to see it, though, I’m afraid, with one look, I’ll know how he truly feels about me. I’ll see nothing but hatred, seething anger, and disgust. That the small dream I’d held on to will be diminished. Setting my eyes on him may break this spell he’s had on me for nearly twenty five years. I’ve never stopped loving him. Not once. Even as I betrayed him.

Bennett Crow.

His soft-blue eyes still haunt my dreams, and the feel of his body against mine is something I’ve never forgotten. The way he made me feel, the way my body reacted to him, no one could ever recreate that ecstasy and I didn’t dare try. I’d once promised no one else would own my lips, and none had. He had a way that could transport me to another realm and I would not ruin that memory with a fleeting encounter.

“We’ve done it, planned it, and regardless of the outcome, we’ll see it through.”

Checking his texts, Carlos rises from his position on the couch, raising his phone and smiling to our father. “Jaris said the subpoena would be dropped this morning, right?”

Carlos has always been a dog to Dad’s beck and call. It was all for a price. If our father said he wanted something done, Carlos did it without question. He was always looking for approval and the little snippets of care kept him content. Not me. I knew as long as I kept the secret, and met his expectations, regarding how we were perceived in public, I could keep my freedom. That I was not a prisoner to their whims.

“Antonia?” my father calls out, breaking me from my internal thoughts.

Trying to seem engaged, I smile as I answer him, “Sorry. You were saying?”

“I expect him to arrive not long after receiving the subpoena. Don’t you think, Antonia?”

I know Bennett will not be walking through the front doors anytime soon. He’ll mull over it. He’ll ask his club and he’ll get their approval, before even thinking of crossing this threshold. Rising from my perch on the chair, I head for the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

I’m not naïve. “He’ll strategize first. He won’t be here today, Dad.” What my father has asked him to do means I will be living elsewhere for a while. The responsibilities I have will need to be addressed before I go. “I’m not the only person who needs to be looked after.”

Nodding his head, he replies, “Fine. But don’t go far. If Bennett does come by, like I feel he will shortly, I’ll need your interruption to smooth it over.”

Without stating anything further, I head from the room. I close the door behind me, taking a few steps to the side I compose myself.

I suck in a massive breath, holding it, and letting it go in a steady stream. I’ve been a captive to my father’s machinations for far too long. With the past being dredged up, I may have my freedom I’ve so desperately hoped for. I know it’s of my own design, but I know—whether Bennet knows it or not—he will be the savior I need to escape. Heading toward my bedroom to prepare, I think of all the unsaid words that have laid against my tongue, waiting to be used. The heaviest of those feels somehow lighter than a feather. It’s just not enough.

Sorry.

Chapter 9

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