Page 131 of Wicked Brutal

“Not to argue with him.”

“Yet that’s exactly what you did.”

“I wasn’t arguing.”

The slap comes so fast I don’t see his hand move. My head snaps sideways. Pain explodes across my cheek. For a second, all I hear is the blood rushing in my ears.

Dad still hasn’t released my arm. If anything, his grip gets tighter. “Do not contradict me.”

My eyes burn. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re always sorry after you’ve already opened your mouth.” He gives my arm a sharp jerk, dragging my attention back to him. I stumble forward. “Look at me.” I do. His face is perfectly calm. That’s worse than if he were yelling. “You think because Victor laughed, that little remark was acceptable?”

“No, sir.”

“Then why did you make it?”

“I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“That’s becoming a very convenient excuse.” His thumb presses into the inside of my arm while his fingers dig into the outside, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from making another sound. “I asked you one thing today, Alison. One thing. Sit beside the man who has waited patiently for you for five years and show him that his patience hasn’t been wasted.”

“I was trying.”

“No, you were showing off.”

I shake my head quickly. “No. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Exactly.” My cheek throbs. So does my arm. “You haven’t been thinking quite a lot lately.” Catherine. Penelope. Rebecca. I know exactly where he’s going before he says another word. “Three girls start paying attention to you and suddenly you’ve decided you have something to prove.”

“They haven’t done anything.” His eyes narrow. I immediately regret it. “I’m sorry.”

“They haven’t done anything,” he repeats quietly. “Yet my daughter has developed more attitude in the last few weeks than she has shown me in eighteen years.” I don’t answer. His fingers are still buried in my arm. I can already feel the deep ache spreading beneath them. “Victor found you amusing today.”

I swallow. “Yes, Father.”

“You’re fortunate.”

“I know.”

“No, I don’t think you do.” He pulls me closer until there are only inches between us. “Men enjoy novelty, Alison. A little attitude can be charming when a woman is young and pretty and they’re trying to win her affection.” My stomach turns. “But charm has limits.”

“I understand.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“When you’re Victor’s wife, he isn’t going to want to negotiate with you every time he makes a decision. He isn’t going to want you embarrassing him at his own table because you think you’ve found a clever way around something he said.”

“I won’t.”

“You won’t what?”

“I won’t embarrass him.”

His grip shifts. Not loosens. Shifts. His fingers move higher on my arm, finding fresh skin beneath the sleeve, and squeeze again. Hard. A tear burns free before I can stop it. His eyes follow it. No reaction. “You represent me until the day you marry him. After that, you represent Victor. Your behavior reflects on the men responsible for you.” I hate that sentence so much I can barely breathe. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Father.”