Page 16 of Her Father's Enemy

Chapter 9

Oriana

Dread curdles my stomach when Keith stops outside of my father’s elegant house. It’s beautiful and absolutely soulless. I never realized before today just how cold it seems.

“I’ll walk you to the door,” Keith says, his eyes still searching my face. During the drive, he asked me what happened. I told him just enough to keep his suspicions at bay—or at least I thought I did. But his kind, assessing gaze makes me think I didn’t fool him.

“Aren’t you going to come in?” The thought of facing my father without Keith by my side is unbearable.

Keith shoots me a small, sad smile. “Your father fired me, Oriana. I doubt he’d be happy to see me. He blames me for what happened.”

Guilt and sadness overwhelm me, and I blink back tears. “I’m so sorry, Keith. It’s all my fault, and—”

“It’s okay. I’m okay. I only stayed for you, anyway.” We come to a halt outside the door. “And if you ever need me, you call me, okay?”

Instead of answering, I fling my arms around his neck. He stiffens in surprise, but then clumsily pats my shoulder.

“All those years, you were my only friend,” I mumble against his chest, my voice thick. “And you were—” I take in a gasping breath. “You were more of a father to me than he was.” It’s a truth I never wanted to admit, not even to myself, but I’ve known for a long time. And, judging by the way Keith’s embrace tightens, so has he.

To my surprise, I see tears sparkle in Keith’s eyes when he lets go of me. “You’re going to be okay, kiddo,” he says, his deep, mellow voice slightly hoarse. “And call me if you need me, okay?” he says again, his brown eyes filled with worry and affection.

“I will,” I say, giving him a watery smile. And then I straighten my shoulders and ring the doorbell.

Keith gives me one last pat on the shoulder and gets into his car, but he doesn’t drive away. The door opens, revealing our pretty maid, a girl barely two years older than me. Her dark eyes widen and a slender hand goes to her throat, but then she schools her features into a neutral expression, a professional smile on her face. “Miss Oriana. Your father is going to be so glad to see you. I’ll take you straight to him.”

“Thank you, Kelly,” I mumble and step into the house, shooting one last glance over my shoulder at Keith, who gives me an encouraging nod as if to say, you can do this. I hope he’s right.

* * *

Turns out Kelly was wrong. My father isn’t glad to see me. Or at least not glad enough to see me immediately. I try not to let it hurt me.

He keeps me waiting outside of his office for almost half an hour. I spend that half hour desperately trying to distract myself, counting down from one thousand in my head and then up again.

I can’t think of Flint, not now. Because if I allow myself to think of him, to think of what we were and what we could have been, it would break me. And I couldn’t face my father.

I just need to get through this conversation with him. Then I can lie down on my bed and cry. Cry over Flint, and cry over my mother. And I’ll cry over my foolishness, which lead to me sitting outside the office of a man who should love me but never did.

The door finally opens and my father steps out, his eyebrows drawing together in disapproval when he sees me. A man in his late twenties that I’ve never seen before follows him out. He’s handsome, with golden blond hair and light blue eyes, but there’s something cold and calculating about the way he looks at me. There’s not a shred of kindness in his eyes. They remind me of my father’s.

“Hello, father,” I say, forcing a smile onto my face.

Instead of answering, my father glances over his shoulder at the other man. “I apologize for my daughter, Oliver. I thought I’d give her time to clean herself up before we met. She’s been on one of her long hikes and always comes back looking like a pig,” my father says, looking at me intently as if to say, keep your damn mouth shut, girl. “The silly girl obviously didn’t get the memo,” he continues. His harsh words are like a slap to the face. I wonder who this Oliver is, and why my father doesn’t want him to know I was kidnapped.

Oliver’s cool laugh drips with arrogance. He takes a step forward, looking me over in a way that makes my skin crawl. “She’s a little rough around the edges, isn’t she?” he drawls, his gaze lingering on my chest. I fight the urge the cross my arms. “But she’ll clean up well enough.”

Well enough for what?I want to ask, but I bite my tongue.

“I assure you she will,” my father says. “Oriana.” He grasps my arm painfully. “This is Oliver Lindell. Your fiancé.”

There’s a strange rushing sound in my ears. “What?” I ask numbly, sure I must have misheard.

Oliver lets out that unpleasant laugh again. “Not the sharpest tool in the shed, is she?”

My father chuckles, but there’s anger in his eyes. Not directed at Oliver, of course, but at me. “He’s your fiancé. You’re getting too old to be unmarried, and Oliver will make a fine husband and heir to my company.”

His voice seems to come from far, far away. This isn’t real. It can’t be, can it?

My father grips my arm even harder.

“Hello, Oliver,” I say mechanically. “Pleasure to meet you.” I hold out my hand and he takes it in his, his hungry gaze on my face. Instead of shaking my hand, he turns it over and lifts it to his mouth, brushing a kiss against it. I have to fight the urge to jerk away.

“Pleasure to finally meet you, Oriana. I do hope you’re feeling better. I was so disappointed you couldn’t make it to dinner the other night. You’re lucky I could get another table for tomorrow evening,” he says and finally lets go of my hand.

So he’s the reason my father wanted me to buy a nice dress for that dinner. It was only a few days ago, but it feels like a life-time. So much has changed and yet here I am, being sold off like cattle by my own father. And if I hadn’t been so stupid and rash, I could be with Flint and my mother instead.

“Much better, thank you, Oliver,” I say, trying for a bland smile. Out of the corner of my eye, I see my father give me a little nod of approval. It makes me hate him.

While the men say their goodbyes, I stand numbly next to them. My father wants me to marry a man whom I only just met. I don’t know much about Oliver. What I do know is that I could never be happy with him. What I do know is the only man who could ever make me happy is Flint. And I might have lost him forever. My father won’t let me out of his sight again, not after what happened. Flint is the bravest, most determined man I’ve ever met, but even he would have trouble getting me out of here. If he even wants me back after I ran away from him.

The thought of never seeing Flint again makes my heart crack. And still I stand next to my father and my fiancé, smiling emptily, while I shove my pain down, down, down until a grey emptiness settles over me. Until I feel nothing at all.

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