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“The success of this opening is paramount for me.” Now I let a bit of pleading into my voice. “It’s my hope that after the wedding, I’ll be able to focus solely on the management of the gallery as I’ll be stepping down from Benoit Tech.”
He cocks his head to the side, a half-pleased smile on his face. My stomach twists and I fight the instinctual pleasure of knowing I’ve made him happy. It’s hard, though, and using it instead, I smile abashedly and go to tuck a hair behind my ear despite the neat twist I’ve tamed my curls into.
“So, you’ve accepted your engagement with Miles, then?” He rises from his desk, walking around with his arms spread wide and folds me into his embrace. I free my arms enough to grip his sides, frozen in place. A part of me wants to hug him tight and demand to know the truth. I want to hear it from him that he convinced my mother to sacrifice her life for him, and that he intends the same for me. I want him to tell me that he loves me, that everything I saw is a carefully constructed lie Landon has created to fool me. That it’s impossible for Oberon to kill me when he was the one who’d put band-aids on my scraped-up knees and read me bedtime stories of princesses in far-off lands.
“I have,” I answer after clearing my throat and blinking back unexpected tears. When he pulls back, I give him a watery smile and he chuckles. “I think I was just so overwhelmed with it on top of everything else. You know how much I’ve been working lately, and I haven’t had an invite for another cello performance so it was just a lot.”
“Oh, I know,” he says, his voice a fraction too cold to be sympathetic. “I’d informed your chamber group that you would no longer be performing as you’d be too busy planning your wedding.”
“What?”
He was the reason no one had reached out to me for another performance? He’d decided for me, just like that? God, I really am such a fool. How many times has he done something just like this? I’ve never been the one to choose when I was finished with a hobby or interest. He’d sold my horse, canceled my robotics courses, limited my instruments to the cello—only because I fought for that one.
“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” he says and walks to where he’d abandoned his coat sometime before I arrived. He shrugs it on and looks at his watch. “I knew you’d appreciate it being handled. This way you can focus on your wedding. Oh, I was going to keep this as a surprise but I’m gifting you and Miles a honeymoon. You’ll use my private jet. I’ve arranged it all. Three weeks in Italy. How does that sound? I know you’ve always wanted to go.”
It’s a cold, stark reminder of his plans. I watch closely, looking for any sign of his cruel deceit and find absolutely nothing. Why would I? This isn’t his first time lying to someone he planned to kill. A tear slips out and runs down my cheek and I dash it away, forcing a smile.
“That sounds amazing, Father,” I tell him, using the same fake cheer I have for years. “Thank you.”
He sits down at his desk, reaching for something in his drawer. “Go ahead and hire Nocturna Solutions. I want the gallery to go off without issue, especially since that damn dealer fell through with the Helm of Darkness. Now we need a new feature piece.”
I nod, but he’s not paying attention, and I turn to leave. I’m almost at the door, feeling utterly hollow inside, when I stop and look back at him. He’s bent over his desk, studying the papers in front of him, completely moved on from his plans to kill me and Miles.
“Father?” I try, uncertain, but knowing I need to.
“Hmm?” He doesn’t look up, and a sharp pain stabs my guts.
“Why not the chalice?” I ask and his head snaps up. I do my best to look as naive as he believes me to be. “It’s beautiful and you’ve never shared it with the world. No doubt a single night where the great Oberon Benoit’s favorite piece will be on display will drive up the sale of tickets.”
He frowns and I know he’s about to refuse. He’s never let it out of the safety of his workroom.
“Just consider it, please? As an engagement gift for your daughter?”
He scowls. “No promises,” Oberon says at last. “But you may have a point.”
I leave quickly, knowing the moment I’m out of his sight, he’ll move on to other projects. The displaying of the chalice will appeal to his ego, and once the attacks stop on the gallery thanks to the new security, I’ll create a press release announcing the chalice’s presence. He won’t be able to resist the increased acclaim the chalice’s presence will grant him.
Oberon Benoit may have spent my entire life learning the best ways to manipulate me into his willing sacrifice, but I’m still his daughter. I have nearly two decades of experience learning how my father operates and he’ll never expect my betrayal.
Chapter Twenty-Four
WREN
“I’m serious, the dick better be good.”
I try not to choke on my coffee in the middle of my office and Niamh smirks as she sips her own. She arrived just after lunch without announcement and Raul had too many hearts in his eyes to deny her. I swear that man would throw me under the bus if Niamh asked in that sweet tone that always gets her way. She might be seven years older than him, but I think that’s one of the reasons he’s so besotted with my best friend. Not that he’d ever admit it to me.
“It’s the only reason acceptable for you to keep bailing on happy hours. I’ve had to resort to ambushing you, for fuck’s sake,” my best friend continues, gesturing between us. She’s got her shoes off and feet tucked up under her where she’s sitting on my office couch, her chin perched on her fist. Her eyes dart towards my office door and back to me, and I raise a brow.
“Are you sure I’m the only reason you’re here today?” I tease, waggling my own brows. When she scoffs and tosses her hair, I laugh. God, I need this right now. With everything going on, sometimes a girl just needs her bestie. “I don’t see why you don’t put both of you out of sexual misery and drag Raul into a supply closet.”
“I do not need a man, let alone a youngerman,” Niamh protests but it’s a weak one.
“You aren’t your mom, you know,” I tell her, my voice gentle, and glance at my phone. A pang of disappointment hits me when I don’t see any messages from Lan. Looking back at my friend when she hasn’t replied, I go sit next to her when her expression is troubled. Niamh gets along with her mom, except when it comes to her mom’s boyfriends—her very young boyfriends. I put a hand on her back, rubbing gently. “Everything okay?”
Niamh blows out a breath and shakes off her stupor to shoot me a grin. “Yeah, I’ve got my big girl panties on.” She glares at the ring on my hand. “There’s no way it’s Miles—” she says his name as if he’s an incurable STD “—who is dicking you down so good.”
I blush and, after a moment’s hesitation, get up and close my office door. By the time I sit down next to her again, she’s upright and eager, like a bloodhound who’s caught the scent of a juicy rabbit. Even sitting close enough our knees brush, I whisper.
