Page 14 of The Assassin
There was a long pause. Was Abigail acquiescing? Was Roslyn rounding that big desk to reach his daughter? Something about that image playing out in my head had my gut clenching.
“Maybe it’s time I spelled this out for you,” Roslyn said, his words a low snarl. The man wasrarely angry; few people gave him reason to be angry. Abigail’s silent defiance seemed to be the exception. “I’ve provided for you for two decades—food, shelter, education. It’s time I got my money’s worth out of that cunt.”
A sharp, feminine gasp filled my ears.
“Kyle Pellen comes from one of the oldest, wealthiest, most influential families in this state. An alliance with the Pellens wouldmake me unstoppable—and you are going to create that alliance for me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I am talking about marriage,” Roslyn said. “Tonight, you will sit next to your fiancé when I announce my bid for the governor’s chair. You will be his, and you’d better make every person in that room believe you want that. Do I make myself clear?”
“What? No!”
The slap this time wasn’t palmagainst wood; it was skin against skin.
“You will marry, and that’s final. Don’t think you can defy me in this.” His voice lowered as if he leaned away from the bug, leaned toward his daughter. “The only worth you’ve ever had is what’s between your legs, just like your mother before you. I’ll leverage anything I have to, to get what I want.”
“What about what I want?”
The words were almost quietenough I couldn’t make them out. Roslyn’s answer was crystal clear: “What you want has never mattered. It won’t start now.”
Silence answered him. I tried to picture Abigail’s creamy skin, the skin I was certain would never hide a blush, a sudden flush of anger. A palm print. Those expressive eyes that had stared at the ceiling, starkly naked of any defenses. Every emotion she felt, flashing acrossher face. What emotion was there now?
Political and financial alliances were more common in marriage, especially in families like hers, but she hadn’t expected this; that was clear. Had she known about her own mother? Picturing the framed photograph on her desk, I knew she hadn’t. And yet it explained so much, didn’t it? The woman in that image hadn’t been happy. The house lacked any personalmementoes.
Yes, it made perfect sense.
Abigail cleared her throat. “Kyle hasn’t asked me to marry him.”
The sound of a grunt came through. “He doesn’t have to. It’s understood. He’ll have a diamond for you when we arrive. A large one. Consider it payment.”
Damn.
“You are dismissed. Be ready at seven sharp. We have to be at the hotel ballroom by eight.”
I couldn’t hear Abigail’s steps asshe crossed the office, but theclickof the door closing quietly came through. Roslyn’s chair creaked as he sat once more; then the sound of typing filtered through the headphones.
I guessed that was one way to tell your child you were fucking them over.
I didn’t switch the channel to the listening devices in Abigail’s room. I couldn’t afford to feel sympathy right now—I couldn’t afford tofeel anything. She was a mark, the perfect mark if she was the link to secure Roslyn to the Pellens. If there had been some way to get to her before the engagement, I’d have done it, but afterward would work too. Maybe better.
An hour later the cell phone I’d used to clone Abigail’s dinged—a text message. I glanced at it absently.
Hey, girl! We’re going out for drinks tonight. Wanna go? Don’tsay no, Abby!!! :-)
Candy, one of the students in Abigail’s nursing class. The invites came regularly, but Abigail always said no. Especially tonight—
Sure. Where and when?
Okay, maybe not. Looked like Roslyn’s kitten was growing some claws.
OMG! Really? Squeeeeee! I can’t wait!!!!
Then…
The Full Moon. 7:30? Don’t eat—we’ll get a pizza after. Sound good?
A short pause. Having second thoughts?
