Page 141 of Through the Water

“Have you spoken to Morgan since you’ve been home?” he asked, inspecting his manicured fingernails. He’d insisted on separate rooms after their marriage, only allowing her into his bed when he wanted sex.

“I’ve been locked in my room,” I answered sweetly. “Or did you forget?”

“Dammit, Ariana!” Tristan jabbed a finger in my direction. “Don’t play games with me—not today! If you know where she is, you need to tell me right now!”

“I have no idea,” I answered truthfully. “But if she’s smart, she’ll never come back.”

He smiled coldly. “And why is that, little dove? What makes you so sure she’d want to leave all of this behind?”

My stomach somersaulted in my belly, urging me to keep my mouth shut unless I wanted to coat the surface of his desk in stomach acid.

“The convertible,” I gulped, resisting the urge to reach up and touch my necklace. “The night of the accident, I took the convertible.”

His expression shifted to one of boredom. “Yes, I’m aware of that, little dove. I fail to see what it has to do with Morgan, though.”

Shit. Damn. Hell.

“She was supposed to be in the car that night,” I admitted, balling my hands into fists against my skirt. “It was her car, after all.”

Tristan shrugged easily and leaned back in his chair with a low chuckle. “So, you took her car and wrecked it. I bought her another. Again, I’m not following how any of this relates to her sudden disappearance.”

He wasn’t going to admit to a single thing—not without proof, of which I had none. I lightly bit down on the inside of my cheek and glanced up at the clock on the wall.

Ten minutes.

“We’ll discuss this later back at the house. For now, let’s go over what you’re going to say out there,” Tristan continued, sliding several papers across the desk. “Here’s your speech, along with which reporters you’re to take questions from. The answers to what they’re going to ask are on the back page.”

I skimmed over the pages, almost impressed by the elaborate lie he’d concocted. There was even a doctor’s report attached, detailing my internal injuries, as well as a non-existent semen sample that had been taken for further testing.

Clearly, Tristan planned on handling this problem in the same manner he’d dealt with my mama and Ashlynn, by creating a story so airtight no one would dare question or spend much time looking into it. He was willing to condemn a man for no more than having the audacity to love me, a crime in his mind.

“And if I refuse to read this?” I challenged, goading him into an emotional game of chicken. The answer had come to me as I stood on the dock last night.

I’d seen myself as a pawn. In reality, I was the one with all the bargaining power. Tristan had told me as much when he admitted he couldn’t do it alone. And unless he wanted to lose Brad’s money, he couldn’t kill me either.

“You’ve grown defiant, little dove.” His voice held a mixture of pride and anger as he leaned forward to rest his arms on the desk. “I’d advise against making such a hasty decision. Do you happen to know where the baseball player is right now?”

“Do you?” I asked, immediately second-guessing my decision to call his bluff.

Tristan went silent for a moment, his blue eyes taunting me. “Killian’s holed up in his condo, waiting to be arrested again. Although, I imagine if you’re not going to go through with the press conference, that might change. He might feel safe enough to let his guard down and leave.”

He lifted his hands as if to say, what can you do? I turned away, resisting the smile tugging at my lips. Killian was nowhere near his condo, but my father didn’t know that. It was just another in a long line of empty threats meant to keep me obedient.

“Did you decide?” I studied my broken fingernails, noting the dried blood on the ones that had been torn down to the quick. I’d give myself this, I hadn’t gone down without a fight.

“What?”

I looked up, pinning him with my stare. “The night Brad attacked me, you said there were a lot of ways for someone to die and make it look like an accident. I was just wondering, have you decided yet?”

Tristan chuckled at my morbid question. “Why do you ask?”

My gaze drifted back to the clock on the wall.

Five minutes.

We were running out of time.

“No reason.” I shrugged. “Just curious.”

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