I shrug. “It’s the only answer you’re getting.”
She turns to look at me and there’s something calculating in her expression now.
She’s trying to figure me out and find a weakness.
I recognize that look.
I’ve seen it on every negotiator and rival I’ve faced.
“Look,” she starts, her voice shifting to something softer, more reasonable. Almost pleading. “I understand you’re angry. Whatever happened between you and my father, I get that you’re upset. But I had nothing to do with it. I don’t even—I don’t know what your issue with my father is. I stay out of his business.”
Ooh, the innocent approach.
Classic.
And predictable.
“Noted,” I say, keeping my expression neutral.
She blinks, thrown, then plows ahead. “So there’s no reason to keep me. I’m not part of whatever dispute you have with my father. I’m just—I’m nobody. I’m not important to his business dealings.”
“You’re his daughter,” I point out. “That makes you very important.”
“But I don’t know anything!” She leans forward, her green eyes wide and earnest. I fight a smirk. Now we’re doing the damsel in distress routine. “I can’t give you information. I can’t help you with whatever you’re planning. I’m useless to you as leverage because my father?—”
“Your father will burn down half of New York to get you back,” I interrupt, and I can’t help the satisfaction in my voice. “Which means you’reextremelyuseful to me. But nice try with the ‘I’m nobody’ angle. It wasalmostconvincing.”
Her jaw clenches again and frustration flashes across her face before she smooths it away. She’s not used to people seeing through her.
“I need to call my mother,” she tries again. “She’ll be worried sick. She has a heart condition?—”
Back to the heart excuse. “No.”
“But—”
“No.”
“You don’t understand, she?—”
“Still no,” I say smoothly.
Emma’s composure cracks. “You can’t just keep saying no! I need to let her know I’m alive! She could have a heart attack from the stress!”
“Her death would make news, so I’ll tell you if she passes,” I say, fighting a smile at her stunned expression. “Besides, Connor knows I won’t kill you—that’s not what this is about.” I settle back against the seat. “So no, you can’t call your mother. Or your father. Or anyone else.”
“That’s—that’s completely unreasonable!” She’s getting worked up again, two bright spots appearing on her cheeks. “I’m asking for one phone call! That’s—it’s basic human decency!”
I yawn. “And yet, the answer is still no.”
“Butwhy?” She’s almost whining now, and there’s something endearing about it. “What possible reason could you have for?—”
“Because I said so.”
That stops her cold.
She stares at me, mouth slightly open, like she can’t believe what she just heard.
Then understanding dawns, the realization that she’s not going to manipulate her way out of this and that her usual tactics won’t work.