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Almost as if Wendy can sense it, she gives me a cool smile. “She was the love of his life, you know, before all that mess.”
I know she’s only trying to get a rise out of me, but her words hurt all the same. There isn’t any time to act like a jealous teenager, though. This is the time I need to stay strong.
Swallowing thickly, I stare her down, refusing to let her see how her words may have affected me. “Was is the key word there.”
Weston releases a little huffed laugh behind me, and I glance up to find him smirking, his pride beaming through his gray gaze.
Wendy’s lips tip up as well. “I really hadn’t expected this much fire out of you, Callista. Your father isn’t exactly…oh, I don’t know how to phrase this without it sounding insulting to him, but he hasn’t posed much of a challenge.”
I hadn’t expected her to bring up Dad, and the mere mention of him is enough to sidetrack me from our main purpose here. “What are you going to do to him?”
Her eyebrows rise. “Well, that depends greatly on you and what happens here tonight. Weston has declined my offer to help run the business while I’m on the campaign trail and away from Helena. Perhaps you can be the voice of reason and get him to agree. It would certainly be the best way to protect your father.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
CALLISTA
Weston can’t let his anger at his sister derail the plan, but the same goes for me.
Stay calm.
I should have anticipated Wendy would try to get under my skin. She’s exactly the kind of person who would use my love and loyalty to Dad to get a rise out of me and attempt to leverage his safety to get me to help her.
She knows she can’t get Weston on board without my assistance, and she’ll use everything in her arsenal to do just that. If our plan succeeds, her threats won’t matter. Everything she says will be moot, but it still stings to hear them anyway. If we fail, she’s very likely to follow through.
My hands shake, and I tuck them under my legs on the chair, trying to conceal how truly terrified I am by the thought of anything happening to him. Though, maybe I should allow her to see it.
Because there’s only one way this works, and it has to be believable.
She has to think that I can convince him to do this willingly, and from the looks of the way they’re glaring at each other, the start of this conversation hasn’t gone well.
Maybe he hasn’t been able to separate his true feelings from the ones he needs to express in order for all of us to make it out of this alive. So, I need to act as the “voice of reason” she mentioned earlier, and I need to convince The Beast to become it again.
And I can’t be a blubbering mess to do that.
Settling back in the chair, I try to appear relaxed even though I’m far from it because demonstrating fear in front of this woman would be worse than doing it in front of The Beast.
She seems more vicious, more volatile than he ever was, even that first night. It seems obvious watching her now. The set of her shoulders. The icy-cold, steely look in her eyes.
I don’t know how no one else has ever seen it, how she manages to go on television and claim to support law and order when she’s the one running the biggest criminal empire in the state.
There have always been rumors of Barker family members pulling strings in government, acting behind the scenes, but everyone assumed she wasn’t involved. That she was the one who had escaped the family and was now using her position to help bring it down.
How fucking wrong they all were.
But she isn’t going to escape tonight.
Not if I have anything to say about it.
Which means it’s time to play my role.
“My father made a mistake, a very human one. One any of us might have if we didn’t realize what we were walking into. It was stupid; I won’t deny that. But he doesn’t deserve what’s happening to him. He doesn’t deserve to live in constant terror for the rest of his life.”
Wendy appears unmoved by my plea. “I could end it.”
Her simple statement is enough to stiffen my spine, and Weston’s large hand slides to the back of my neck, the rough callouses brushing against my skin. He squeezes gently, offering me support so that I don’t fall apart when he needs me to be strong.
Swallowing my fear and anger, I attempt to match her look so she knows that what I’m about to say will be a determining factor in our negotiations. “If Weston considers your offer—”
