“But not right now— Stay back.” Holding her fingers up like a cross, she creeps a few steps away. “I want to work on a decorating plan for our house.”
“I’ll allow it. I want to find Moretti. And figure out what Grayson Noel Umbridge has to do with Julien’s murder.”
She looks incredible in my T-shirt, paired with my sweatpants she’d found in a drawer. Tied tight. Top hanging to her knees. Hair in a ponytail. No makeup. And a golden glow that reminds me of our summers together.
“Stop looking at me like that.” She wanders away, saying, “I’ll be in my…office, Mr. Cardell.”
It was one of her favorite rooms. I’d set it up like a designer’s studio. But with an architect’s table. Stool. Computer. Big boards on the walls for her to put up samples, color swatches, whatever she wanted. And she’s been dying to get in there.
While I’ve been itching to leave the house to find that piece of shit who dared to touch her.
Then I’ll torture, maim, and kill him slowly.
First, I have one task to complete before the next semester starts.
Dressed in a pressed suit, I kiss my love goodbye and head out for the day. “Errands,” I tell her—plain voice, loaded lie. All so she doesn’t worry.
She also doesn’t need to know that her father and I had an icy chat last night over the fence line.
Asa made the excuse that he’d okayed Moretti’s proposal because I hadn’t movedfast enoughto propose to Ashlyn. He didn’t believe I had his daughter’s best interests in mind and simply wanted possession of his casino.
I told himhedidn’t by allowing that piece of shit near her.
That seemed to make him reconsider, at least enough that he called his men off for the night.
Car tires crunch over the cobblestone driveway of the president’s house on campus. I’d requested a special meeting, even though classes don’t start until next week. This couldn’t wait.
She’s not in her stuffy office, but it’s apparent workers have infiltrated the domain and are remodeling the entire place. President Damon sits in a well-lit study on the first floor, the winter sunshine streaming in through the large cased back windows bracketed by floral drapes.
When I enter, she sets some papers and her gold-rimmed glasses on top of the pile next to her on a marble-topped pedestal table. The warm smile she’d given me at our first meeting is gone. Now? It’s business. And begrudging cooperation.
“You wanted to see me, Mr. Cardell. I’m assuming it has to do with your new appointed… But the POT?—”
“I’m here to tellyouwhat the POT will say. Who the newPOTwill assign to me.”
Her chin shakes slightly, but she nods once. “I see. Because of your brave duty in exposing the traitors within our ranks, I’ll allow that. Who is it the POT should appoint to you?”
“Ashlyn Donovan,” a voice behind me states as he entersthe room with a bold swagger. Ace Donovan’s blue eyes flick to mine. “But he doesn’t get the final say.I do.”
My belly twists. We’d discussed this already, and I reiterated it last night. The fact that I own a majority of shares of his livelihood. ThatI’mthe one keeping his daughter safe. And I won’t let her see him without a solid commitment that she’s to be mine.
“I’m not giving her up easily,” he says, gritty and dark. “She’s my favorite.”
“She’s mine, too,” I spit out, eyes narrowed. I can’t withhold the rage I feel that he left her with that animal, alone and hurt.
“And what conditions do you have, Mr. Donovan?” the president asks.
He scans my frame, sizing me up. A fighter, his body shifts to a ready stance, but his shoulders relax as he says, “Before I sign the appointment, he needs to tie up some loose ends for me first.”
Loose ends?
Ace Donovan has no idea how good I am at cutting them.
forty-one
My phone won’t stop buzzing.
Mom. Dad. Sisters. Even my brother.