Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 35875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 179(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 179(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
He's nearly half an hour late to work. But I hear him before he even gets close to his office. He's ranting at someone about a shipment, threatening to pull a contract. Of course he bullies everyone. Beneath that fake charm, it's all he really knows how to do.
"Just get the damn shipment here," he snarls when he's outside the door. "I don't care who you have to undercut to make it happen, Charles. Do it."
His office door flies open, nearly smacking me in the face.
"Jesus Christ, do I have to do everything around this shithole?" he mutters to himself, slamming the door. "Bunch of fucking… What the fuck?"
I watch as he jerks to a stop, glancing around. Bewilderment filters through his expression as he notices the furniture flipped upside down. Confusion turns to anger, tightening around his lips as he sees the photos turns upside down on the wall. His shoulders stiffen as he turns, ready to march right back out and start firing people, probably.
I step from the shadows, blocking his path.
"Jesus Christ!" he practically shouts, leaping backward.
"Hi, Daddy. Did you miss me?"
"M-Madison?" He stares at me exactly like he's looking at a ghost. Just a few days ago, seeing that look on his face would have brought me immense satisfaction. I wanted him scared. I wanted him nervous. I wanted him quivering in his expensive loafers. I wanted him to feel the same way I did when I was hiding in that closet, listening to my whole world cave in around me.
Now? Well, now I just want him in prison. I want this over. And I want to move on.
"Surprised to see me?" I ask, arching a brow. "Let me guess…you thought I was dead?"
"Madison, I…" He gulps. "I've looked everywhere for you!"
"Really? Did you look over the side of cliff you wanted Kenneth McDougal to make sure I crashed over? I bet you didn't look there, did you?"
If I didn't already know he was guilty, the way he pales slightly would tell me everything I needed. But he tries to bluster his way through it, anyway. "What are you talking about, sweetheart?"
"You know what I'm talking about, daddy. I was snooping in your office that day. I wasn't supposed to be in there, so when you came in, I hid in the closet. I figured you'd be in and out, and then I could scurry back to my room," I say, pacing toward him. He paces backward, toward his desk, which is precisely where I want him so the recording device picks up every word he says. "Imagine my surprise when I heard you plotting to have someone run me off the road so you could take the company and my trust fund."
"That's… You don't understand."
"You're right. I don't understand how my own father could plot my murder. I don't understand how he could let me disappear for seven years and never look for me. There's a lot I don't understand," I say, my voice level. "But I absolutely understand what I heard. I understood it so well that I fled. Because I understood that if I stayed, you'd have me killed just so you could have this company and Mom's money."
"It was supposed to go to me!" he snaps. "I was supposed to inherit everything. Instead, she left it to you."
"And that makes what you did right?" I shake my head. "You were my father! And you didn't deserve anything of hers, not after the way you treated her!"
"I'm still your father, Madison. Obviously, you're still here. What I did back then…it was wrong. I know it was. But it worked out all right, didn't it? You're still here."
"So what? We just forgive and forget? You give me the company on my birthday, and we let bygones be bygones?"
"Well, now…"
"I didn't think so," I mutter, staring at him in disgust. "I know you plan to have me declared deceased on my birthday, daddy."
"You've been missing for seven years. What was I supposed to do?"
"Gee, I don't know. Look for me?" I roll my eyes at him. "When I was little, you were my hero. Did you know that? I idolized you. And then I realized that you never really loved me. I was a mean to an end for you, a pawn to keep Mom from leaving you with nothing. You pretended to care so she lived in fear of you taking me away from her. And she stayed because she would have rather suffered as your wife than risk letting you get custody of me when she knew you'd never let her see me again."
"That's not true."
"Yeah, it is," I say softly. "She was dying of cancer, and you did that to her. That's the kind of person you are. And now, you want to have me declared dead so you can take the company she left me because you're still that person. You'll always be that person. The only person you care about is you."