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“Your father intended for you to marry me,” I say, my voice calmer now. “I understand this is sudden and hard to accept, but the danger is real. We can visit your father in prison tomorrow. He can explain everything.”
Her eyes widen. “That’s impossible. My father isn’t allowed visitors.”
“If he told you that, he lied.”
“My father wouldn’t lie to me. He couldn’t.”
“I think he’s been lying to you for a long time. We’ll see him in the morning, and you can hear the truth from his lips. For now, I’m staying here. On the couch,” I add quickly, seeing the panic in her eyes. “I won’t leave you unprotected.”
“I don’t want you here,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know you. How can I trust you?”
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “Right now, I’m the onlyperson youcantrust. I’m not leaving.”
She stares at me for a long moment, her eyes searching mine. Finally, she nods a small, defeated gesture. “Fine. But if he says you’re lying—”
“Deal,” I say, ignoring the sting of her distrust. “Now, try to get some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”
Jeniah
Ivisit a dead man. My father is alive—thriving, even—but as I sit across from him in the warden’s office, he feels as distant as Mama. The walls close in on me, constricting like the grip of a vise, and the faint scent of lemon polish hangs in the air, sharp and cloying. I battle love and rage, unsure which will overpower the other. Truth is, I’m lost; it’s been years since we were close. I have no reason to help him, no obligation to hear him out—hell, I shouldn’t even care. But still, the good girl wins out—she always does.
The warden stands at attention, deference in his weak posture as he hovers nearby, kowtowing to my father, who sits behind his desk. Wtaf? It hits me harder than it did at the trial. I don’t know this man. Why is he, a convict, occupying a position of power in a place meant to strip away authority? He looks comfortable, as if he belongs behind the massive desk rather than the cold steel of prison bars. But maybe it’s easier this way. I don’t have to see him from behind glass. I can pretend that his baby blue coveralls with the black numbers of his prison ID are just another suit.
“Why?” I ask as I struggle with the surreal scene. “Why does he get this treatment?”
He smirks before the warden can answer. “You’d be surprised what money can buy you in prison, Jeniah,” he says, his tone fullof arrogance and bitterness.
The words fall between us, heavy with implications and cunning. A tsunami of rage rises within me—how can he sit there so comfortably? Reigning from a throne he built on lies and theft? Does he know how his actions ruined my life? His shit ripped away everything he was supposed to protect, leaving scars that run deep.
I break his gaze to accept the truth: I am face-to-face with a man who traded our lives for his ambitions. He stands and opens his arms. Fully expecting the hug of the dutiful daughter as if he’s returning from another day of work. I bite my lip and walk into the hug. But I can’t stop the wince when he kisses my cheek. The kiss burns through my soul. My eyes dart to Gio, who is cataloging my reactions—stripping me bare. Does he see through the loyal martyr to the burning fuse waiting to explode?
“I would be surprised because you told the court, the feds—me, that you had nothing left. I’m hustling every day, working from home, to pay our outstanding debts. The house is mine, but it’s also huge. Do you know how much it costs to keep the utilities going while you lounge with the warden in your new luxury home?”
“Hardly luxury,” he sneers before he remembers we have company. He resumes playing the loving father, giving me an apologetic shrug. “If I could have passed money to you, I would have. But the feds will be watching every transaction you make for years. So, unfortunately, I can’t help you financially.”
“It’s okay. I wouldn’t expect you to. That’s the sad part. The only thing I ever wanted was your help with Mama.”
“I did. Who do you think I did all this for? Did you think her medical bills paid themselves? I loved Joanna. She was the best part of my life—our lives. But loving her,taking care of her, was draining.”
“Well, weren’t you lucky that you could pass that responsibility off to your child—”
“Hardly, a child. You were very mature—”
“I had to be. I had to grow up fast because someone needed to be there for her.”
I can’t read my father’s expression. Does my rare outburst shock him? Something flickers in his eyes, but it’s quickly replaced by irritation. “I had to do it, sweetheart. Joanna’s medical bills—”
I interrupt his revisionist bullshit when he repeats himself. “You thought stealing millions was the best way to pay her expenses?” My voice rises, then falls sharply when he looks at the door. “Maybe you started with good intentions, but what happened? Don’t answer.” I flip my wrist up to cut his response. “I already know. You got greedy.”
“Watch your tone,” he snaps, the words clipped and cold. No longer worried about our audience. His lips flatten at my defiance. “I may be in prison, but you’re still my daughter, Jeniah Marie.”
His fist waves, rising with his frustration, and Gio steps closer. Delivering a message—he has my back. A message he reiterates when he rests his palm above my hips. His fingertips curl into the crease of my spine. The warmth spreads to my core, and the strike of desire shakes my focus. He’s angled his body betweenus and left one arm free. I am strong enough to take on John Reynolds. But Gio, clearly, won’t let me fight alone.
My father slumps back into the seat. Is he backing down? Now, I’m the one in shock. He leans forward, hands trembling slightly as frustration clouds his features. “When your mother got sick, you have no idea how hard it was for me. I thought—”
“You thought what?” I cut him off, my heart racing. “That it was easier for me? You left me to care for her while you disappeared on your business trips—dropping in and out of our lives.”
He bristles, irritation boiling beneath his surface. “I’m not saying the situation was ideal. I didn’t want to put your mother in a nursing home, Jeniah. She wanted you, not strangers. You always looked so… capable taking care of her.”
