One day, I won’t have to pretend.
But, for at least the next twelve years, I’ll be an actress, playing a part in this ridiculous play because at the end of it, I’ll take Della far away from here. She’ll be eighteen and the law won’t force her to be his prisoner anymore. We’ll live a life filled with laughter and freedom and happiness. This hell will become a distant memory.
Glancing at the clock, I take note of the time. Della still hasn’t shown up, which means Sandra is keeping her for some reason. Dinner, when he’s home, always starts at seven which means I’ll need to finish up and locate Della myself before he arrives. Quickly, I rummage around in my jewelry box, overlooking Mom’s old rings and necklaces, before seeking out the bracelet he gave me on my eighteenth birthday last March.
I hate this bracelet. I hate him. Yet, I slide it onto my wrist and turn my arm, watching the light glint off the gold.
“You look stunning,” a deep voice rumbles from the doorway. “A spitting image of your mother.”
Every hair on my body crackles to life and stands on end as if awoken by dark energy clouding around me. His familiar voice alone is enough to tell me who is prowling into my bedroom, but when I catch whiff of his expensive cologne scent, it solidifies the answer.
Daddy’s home.
“Thank you, Dad,” I say, flashing him an ear-splitting grin. “We’ve missed you.”
He opens his arms, waiting for me to greet him with a hug. I walk into his strong grip. His embrace is brief before he quickly lets go of me. A wolfish, calculating smirk tugs at his lips as he holds up a fisted hand.
If Della were here, that fist would be a weapon.
But, for me, his beloved older daughter, it’s a gift.
It wasn’t always this way. I’ve just gotten really good at performing perfectly for the most vicious critic in the world.
“You brought me something?” I bounce on my toes in girlish eagerness despite the sourness in my gut. “I can’t wait to see.”
He lets loose a rumbling chuckle. “You’re spoiled, sweetheart.”
My smile falters and it takes effort to tighten the muscles, forcing it to stay in place. “You spoil me,” I sass back. “It’s your fault.”
Pleased with my words, he twists his hand and uncurls his fingers to open his palm. Sitting like a coiled golden snake, a necklace shimmers beneath the overhead light. His gifts feel like weights, dragging me to the bottom of the abyss—a constant reminder of why he gives them.
“It’s so pretty,” I breathe, reaching for the dainty necklace.
“So impatient,” he chides. “Allow me. Turn around.”
Swallowing down my unease, I twist and face the window. In the reflection, Dad towers over me, a menacing presence. With gentle, delicate movements, he unclasps the necklace and then reaches around me to dangle it in front of my face.
“How was Tokyo?” I ask, trying and failing to keep the shakiness from my voice.
“After several days of negotiations, we finally came to an agreement on the building purchase price. The sale went through without issue and it’s officially mine. Croft Gaming and Entertainment will now have a presence in Asia.” His fingers brush along the outside of my neck as he brings the clasps together behind my neck. “It’s a multi-billion-dollar expansion that’s turning the heads of some impressive people, specifically in this city.”
“Incredible,” I murmur. “Congratulations.”
“With the money I’ll make from this global expansion, maybe I can retire. Sell the company and spend more time with my daughter.” He kisses the top of my head. “What do you say?”
My knees quake but I keep them locked. Spending all hours of every day with him would be an absolute nightmare for me and Della both.
“I see a lot of trips to Greece in our future,” I tease, unable to fully hide the terror in my tone. “Della loves traveling.”
The air grows chilly at the mention of my sister. Immediately, I regret my words. What did I just do? Did I screw up everything over a few misspoken words?
“Perhaps,” Dad says icily. “Or perhaps we’ll find a sitter. She can be quite…unruly. Vacations aren’t meant to be spoiled by unruly children.”
I swallow down the bile creeping up my throat. Now is not the time for weakness. I’m here, rather than away at college, because of her. Because she needs me. I am the wall between them. Her only line of defense. I’ll be damned if I crumble now.
“Will we be having another costume party this year for your birthday? You’ve been so busy with work, so…” I trail off, hoping to change the subject from Della to something that brings my father joy. Himself.
Predictably, his rigidness melts away and a smile crawls across his face. “There’s always time for a Croft party, my love. Have you thought about what you’ll dress up as?”
“A princess.”
“You’re a princess every day.” He chuckles, his dark blue eyes twinkling. “You’ll think up something clever. You always do.”
Dad cups my cheek and winks at me before striding out of my bedroom. The air that I’d been struggling to breathe rushes in and out of my lungs in ragged pants. Tears prickle at my eyes.
There’s no time to have a mental breakdown.
Not now. Not ever.
I have to protect her.
Always.
With one last exhalation, I lift my chin, affix my practiced smile, and set out on my mission to play a complicated game against a cruel, hateful man…my father.
Chapter Two
Sully
It’s not often we’re summoned by our…uncle, but when it happens, we show up to the Morelli mansion. No questions asked. Ready to do his bidding.
Bryant Morelli isn’t a man you fuck with.
Period.
Sparrow groans in boredom, swiping through his phone too quickly to be reading anything. He, like myself, hates these damn “family meetings.” Our brother, Scout, is the only one who remotely takes interest in them, which makes me wonder where the hell he is.
“You seen Scout?” I ask Sparrow, lazily shaking the ice in my empty glass. “Like since Christopher’s party?”
“Nope.” Sparrow pops the “p” and doesn’t bother to look up. “Not his keeper.”
I roll my eyes, dropping my glass to the table beside my chair with a loud clank. Sparrow cuts his dark-eyed stare my way. He’s antagonistic by nature and enjoys whenever he can find a way to poke at one of his brothers. It’s earned him his fair share of fists to the face for it, too.
“Technically you are,” I remind him. “We made a promise.”
Sparrow scowls. “That was a year ago.”
“Yeah, well it doesn’t have an expiration date.”
Not with Scout. Ever since our brother got us into some major shit with the fucking Constantine family that ruined our lives, he’s been put on watch. He can’t be left to his own devices because our brother is a psychopath.
“Scout is fine,” Sparrow grumbles, already bored with the conversation, returning his gaze back to his latest Tinder hookup quest. “Besides, he’s Bryant’s bitch now.”