Page 55 of Hidden Heir

“That’s hardly comparable!” Brooke screeches. “You’rehurtingpeople. And you—” She cuts herself off and scoffs, narrowing her eyes. “Before I came here, the Irish were going to sell me for sex. That’s how I was supposed to pay off Ant’s debt. I didn’t have the money so they were going to sell me to as many people as they could, at a price where they could do anything they wanted for as long as they wanted. And they almost did. I was sent to a man, and he was all over me. He hurt me so I attacked him and ran.”

Her words cut through me like shards of ice and I take a half step forward. “Is that what you’re scared of? Brooke, I wouldneverlet something like that happen to you!”

“That’s not the—!” She throws her hands up and then starts grabbing clothes from her suitcase, throwing them at me. “That’s not the fucking point! It already happened and it was terrifying, do you understand? I was scared and Ichoseto do it to save my brother. Now imagine how all those people, yes,people, in those containers feel! Because of you, Leon. Because of you!”

The clothes are nothing but an annoyance but each one stokes my anger a little hotter each time they hit me.

Part of me knows she’s right. The immediate horror and rage I felt hearing what the Irish tried to do to her was instinctual. But I can’t apply that to my work because it’s not mine alone; it’s my father’s too. I can’t shit on decades worth of hard work under my family name just because of a little guilt.

“You don’t understand,” I snap, fighting to keep a lid on my anger. “You’re not seeing the bigger picture, Brooke.”

“Good!” She yells herself hoarse. “I don’t want to seeanypicture that involves human trafficking, you fuck! I’m leaving, you hear me? Keep your blood money. I’m taking my family and I’m leaving!”

“No.”

She halts her actions. “What the fuck do you mean,no?”

My world tilts, and suddenly, the only thing that matters to me is keeping Brooke here. She needs time to breathe and calm down, and then I can talk to her and explain. It’s the only way this is going to work. If I can just explain things to her the way my father explained them to me, then she will see and understand.

“You are not leaving.”

Brooke’s chest heaves and she glares at me, her eyes widening. “You can’t stop me.”

“I can.”

I make for the door. Brooke runs at me but I get there first. In a flash, I’m on the other side, slamming the door shut. With the turn of a key, I lock it.

“Leon!” Brooke hits the door then begins pounding on it with her fists. “You fucker, let me out of here! You can’t keep me here, Leon. You can’t fucking keep me here!”

I walk away, panting through my anger as it clouds my thoughts.

Only one decision comes into focus. Brooke needs time to calm down. We can talk again once she’s regained her composure.

In the meantime, I need to confront my father. He better have one hell of an explanation.

24

BROOKE

The look of pain on Leon’s face when I confessed what the Irish tried to make me do, felt like part of a really bad joke. How could he feel any kind of horror at that when he and his family are responsible for sending god knows how many people into the same situation?

My heart is a warzone. On the one side, I think I love him. The way he treats me and cares for me is beyond anything I’ve experienced before. But on the other is the truth of his business and the cold cruelty he helps inflict on others. They battle each other, creating a constant ache in my chest while I pound my fists on the door and yell for my freedom.

He doesn’t grant it, and after prolonged silence on the other side I can only assume he’s left me here.

That fucker.

Little does he know that locking me up will not have any real effect. Selina gave me keys to the rooms not too long ago after I grew worried about Tiffany accidentally locking herself in somewhere.

Selina. Does she know what Leon does?

Of course she does. Everyone here must know. I was the only one in the dark.

I have to get out of here. I can’t have my daughter near dangerous people like this. All it takes is one bad day, one argument, and it could be us in one of those containers.

Locating the keys is a challenge given the mess of the room. I don’t even care about packing right now. I just have to get out of here.

I find the keys under the bed. They must have fallen out of my purse when it slid off the bed. Through tears, I fumble through them in search of the one for the bedrooms. After a few seconds, I locate it, and with trembling fingers, I thrust the key into the lock but it refuses to go in all the way. With a grunt of frustration, I pull the key out then thrust it back in but again, I’m met with resistance.

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