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“Hello, Father,” she greeted him smoothly. Her voice didn’t quaver. Did it?
For Jacey. For Quaid. Do not reveal anything.
She’d trained herself well to hide what she was thinking and feeling. The magazines who were fond of her touted her as, ‘Poise, grace, and beauty intertwined.’ The media who weren’t her biggest fans would say, ‘Ice princess holds herself aloof.’
“I need you in the office, doll,” he said. His voice was smooth, cultured, no hint of the devil lurking under the skin.
When had he returned home? Sometimes she wondered if he could teleport.
She kept her voice pleasant. “I will be right there.”
“I know you will.” He hung up.
Elizabeth quickly smoothed the card she’d crumpled and placed it in the envelope with the beautiful picture. There was no choice but to hide it and destroy it as soon as she’d finished her father’s bidding. She didn’t dare leave it in the closet. If there was a random inspection and the card and party invitation were found, Jacey and her cowboy could be murdered in their sleep.
No. Father would do something more nefarious than murder them. Death was not the worst option. Elizabeth would welcome death if she knew Quaid and Jacey would be safe.
No time to properly destroy the evidence. Untucking the back of her button-down shirt, she pushed the envelope into the rear of her skirt’s waistband and then re-tucked the shirt over it. Turning, she eyed herself in the full-length mirror. No indicator that the card and photo were there.
She rushed out of the closet, through her spacious suite, and down the hall. Heels clicking, she ignored the familiar bodyguards as she passed. Any kindness or extra attention from her only resulted in pain for the other person when Father needed to ‘persuade’ her to say or do something she was against saying or doing.
She’d never forget poor Jacob losing a finger because she hadn’t wanted to flirt with the nefarious dictator King Frederick and let the man paw her while Father and Mother figured out how to manipulate him. Jacob had done nothing but be the closest person when Father needed a ‘learning tool’ for Elizabeth. She shuddered.
The guards had always been there to keep her in line as much as protect her and Father from outward threats, though that would never be said aloud. Her mother had bribed, threatened, or blackmailed to manipulate these men while her father silently controlled them. Some of them proudly imagined they were working for the ‘good guy’ now. Duped. Her father could easily win an Academy Award, but he had other purposes for his acting abilities. She prayed her own abilities were up to par. If she could convince Father she was firmly on his side, she might be able to create an opportunity to protect Quaid and Jacey.
She descended the stairs with the grace and poise that had been drilled into her. Too quickly, she was in the doorway of her father’s study, waiting for permission to enter.
He typed away on his computer, seemingly oblivious to her hovering. After several long minutes, he raised his eyes and affected the surprised look that she loathed. She despised everything about him.
“Ah, doll. There you are. Come in, come in.” He stood and gestured her in, opening his arms for a hug.
Elizabeth complied. To fail meant someone would be injured for her ‘rebellion.’ She hadn’t failed since Mother had died. That was something.
They embraced, and he kissed her on the forehead as he always did. She endured his hug and kiss multiple times a day. She had learned young never to flinch or shudder. Every time she’d reacted poorly as a child, her innocent brother Thomas had been hurt by her mother or one of her mother’s goons. An innocent and adorable toddler. She still heard his cries in her nightmares. How many times had she run to her father, begging him to stop her mother? He would hold her and tenderly teach her how to be more obedient so she could protect her siblings.
For most of her childhood, the patient instruction had seemed like mercy from someone who cared enough to help her learn what she needed to learn. Not until her teenage years did she realize it was the hypocritical monster pretending to love her who pulled the strings and ordered Thomas’s torture, not her mother. That had been one of the many appalling days of her too-long life.
Elizabeth stepped back, but he kept a hand on her lower back. Her neck pricked uncomfortably. Why her lower back? He only put his hand there when he directed her at events, parties, or dinners.
Could he feel the card? Did he somehow already know about it? No. How could he?
He knows everything. Sees everything.
Cold sweat formed on her forehead. She took slow breaths, praying her pulse point wouldn’t betray her. It had always been her tell.
Please don’t let him feel the card.
She had no idea who she was asking for help. A benevolent Heavenly Father had never helped her. Jacey had taught her to pray when they were children. Elizabeth had tried for her sister and brother’s sakes, but she’d given up the practice years ago.
Father tilted his head to study her. His grayish-blue eyes didn’t even appear calculating. Beaten down, innocent, unassuming, conscientious—he had those roles down to exactness.
He tugged her shirt up and pulled the card out.
Elizabeth’s eyes widened, her blood running cold. No!
She schooled her reaction. Any sign of weakness would be exploited and used to hurt Jacey and Quaid in the future. Jacey! What could she do to protect her sister now? She scrambled for ideas but came up blank.
How had Father known the card was there? Was there a camera in her closet? The mirror? Bile rose in her throat as she realized one of the many video feeds downstairs now featured her changing her clothing. And if there was now a camera in her closet, it was possible there was one in her bathroom as well.
