Page 156 of The Royal Art of Revenge

“Alec,” Finn warns.

“Oh, fine. Yes, it’s one of my companies. It was previously my uncle’s, and he passed it to me when he retired a couple of years ago. He made some substantial investments in your family’s business about fifteen years ago, and it’s always been a good return, so I just let it be. Now… Well, I have plenty of money, and it’s an easy way to mess with him.”

An easy way to mess with him.

Like he isn’t talking about an actual business with an actual cashflow and actual repercussions for an entire company.

“That’s one way of putting it,” Oscar says with a shake of his head. “At least nobody knows it’s you.”

“I don’t care if they do.” Alec shrugs and reaches for the bottle of wine to refill his glass. “Jasmine hitting Harriet did some damage to his business, especially since she didn’t publicly apologise, and all ACN has done is react to that. I pulled a couple of others at the same time, and I’m technically only the chairman with no real power on paper, so even if it’s traced back to me, it won’t hurt Harriet in any way.”

“Is that because you’re scared of me or because you like me?” I grin, propping my chin up on my hand.

“Bit of both.” He smirks, laughter flickering in his dark eyes. “Also, I just don’t like your father, and I enjoy the thought of him squirming right now.”

He could say that again.

I pause, then look from Finn to Oscar. “I’ll speak to him.”

“Hattie.” Finn sets his hand flat on the table. “You don’t have to. Not after what happened when you went home.”

“I want to.” I hold his gaze, my resolve hardening with every second that passes. “I want to ask him why he hasn’t denied this story about me. He doesn’t know I have the DNA test results, so there’s no reason for him not to respond to it. He could easily put an end to it. He’s only here because it’s affecting his business. He clearly thinks he still has some kind of control over me or he wouldn’t be here, so it’s time I put that to an end.”

“The last time you were alone with him, he moved to hit you.” His tone darkens. “I’m not leaving you with him.”

“I’ll speak to him somewhere you can stay close. He’s an idiot, but he’ll be panicking.” I drop my gaze to my half-finished plate. “He’ll keep himself under control because he won’t want to risk anything getting out that could lose him more money.”

“That’s going to happen regardless. Once we reveal the truth about Jasmine and Rosalyn, the business is going to crash,” Oscar says.

Once we do?

Does that mean they have a real plan?

Oscar taps his fingertips against the table. “What if he’s desperate enough to be stupid?”

“Then he’ll get a shock. I can defend myself, and I’d bet I can hurt him far quicker than he can hurt me. The only reason he had a chance to raise his hand against me before is because I foolishly thought he would never do such a thing.” I press my lips together, looking at all three of them one by one. “Now, I know better. So let him in. Let me talk to him. It’s the only way I can put an end to all this bullshit.”

Alec and Oscar both look at Finn. Silence rests heavy between us all as he stares at me, and just when I think he’s going to say no, he sighs.

“Fine. We’ll let him in, but we’re going to be in the next room. Any sign of him laying hands on you, and it’s conversation over.” He presses his lips into a thin line. “I refuse to let you get hurt by him again.”

“I won’t.” I push back from the table and stand, leaving my hands resting on the edge. “At this point, he can’t hurt me. He doesn’t have that power anymore.”

***

My father gets to his feet the moment I walk into the room. He looks remarkably different to last night—the blue-purple shadows under his eyes add years to his face, and the tight drawing together of his lips only serves to enunciate the lines around his mouth.

Even his posture has changed. Gone is the stable, strong demeanour he usually carries himself with. In its place is a tired, weaker silhouette, one that fits with the relieved wave of desperation that emanates from him as I approach.

“Hattie!” My father reaches towards me before stopping short of touching me. “Thank you for getting me permission to enter the palace. I can’t believe I couldn’t get in. I would have invited you home to talk to you again, but Rosalyn told me you left on bad terms last night, and I—”

“Took her word for it and never thought to call me and see what happened,” I finish for him, taking a step back to put some distance between us.

He balks at my words. Or maybe it’s my tone.

Colder. Sharper.

Less forgiving than he’s used to.