Page 31 of Where the Wind Whispers

Her family—her father, on the other hand—was not stupid. It would only take a couple of missteps, then someone would have her current predicament all figured out, and she’d be screwed.

“Hurry, topina, we’re already running late,” Alberto said as Violet’s car door was opened wide, exposing a sidewalk that was mostly quiet for the part of Manhattan they were in. “I sent Timothy after you a good hour ago—what happened?”

“Traffic,” Violet lied, sliding out of the car.

Alberto peered down the street devoid of heavy traffic. “Oh?”

“Sure.”

That was her story, and she was sticking to it. There was no need to explain that she hadn’t felt like getting out of bed to play pet to her father and whoever he was entertaining for the day, so she had ignored the driver’s calls to her new cell phone.

A cell phone provided by Alberto.

“You look wonderful,” Alberto praised, his sharp gaze taking in the modest, navy blue dress Violet had grabbed out of the closet to throw on. It was the closest thing to the door when she realized just how late she actually was—the tag on the inside of the collar said it was one of her mother’s dresses in her collection. Even her clothes were being picked for her, technically. “Except your face. You’re a little green.”

Coldness washed through Violet’s bloodstream fast and harsh. She was positive that if there had been any odd color to her cheeks from fighting off another bout of morning sickness, it was now replaced by a sheet of white.

“Fine, Daddy. I’m perfectly fine.”

Violet had turned back to the car as she’d said the words, hoping that her father wasn’t watching what was left of her color drain from her face. She reached inside and grabbed her bag, slinging it over her shoulder as she turned back to her father with a smile she knew would distract him.

If only for a moment …

Alberto’s eyes were still nailed on Violet, unfortunately. “If you’re not feeling well—”

Violet laughed, smiling a little wider even though it hurt her cheeks to do so. Whatever it took, right? Whatever she needed to do to be safe and then get back to Kaz.

She could do this.

Leaning up, Violet pressed a quick kiss to her father’s cheek. Alberto smiled at the action, but he was still watching her.

Maybe a bit too much.

Violet doubted for even a second that her father would call her on the lies. He liked her compliance too much to ruin it.

He thought she was stupid.

Alberto forgot the most important thing about the two of them.

She was his child.

He’d taught her well.

“I’m fine,” Violet promised. “And we’re late.”

“We are. It’s an important day, Violet. Try not to mess that up for me, yes.”

He didn’t pose it as a question.

She didn’t really need the reminder, either.

Violet let her father lead her down the street toward a restaurant she recognized as belonging to a family friend. And by “family friend,” she meant one of her father’s men. The closer they came, the quieter Violet was as her father tucked her hand into his arm at his elbow as if to keep her in place at his side.

It wasn’t as if he’d let her do much else from the moment she showed back up on his doorstep. She’d even noticed that Alberto chose to do more business at the mansion than he usually would since she returned. It was almost as if he believed the less time she was out of his sight, and the more time she spent away from Kaz, whatever spell she’d found herself under would simply disappear.

Who knew?

The times when her father did manage to speak to her, it was usually to order Violet to do something Alberto wanted her to do. What he never did, however, was acknowledge what she had done.