Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
I watch, trying not to cry.
“This is what’s left of your home, Phee. All your things that were inside are gone. And this,” he continues, clicking into a different channel. It’s the security footage from the house. I thought we’d canceled the contract a while ago, but I guess not. “This is your boyfriend. Do we call him that? No, that would be an insult to my son. My family. This is the real Silas Cruz in the flesh. Look at the time stamp. That’s while you were at the gala.”
“While you were searching the crowd for him,” Ethan adds.
“Hm.” Sly says, watching Silas walk out of the house in his tux, something tucked under his arm.
“Does my father know it’s gone?” I ask.
Sly turns to me. “How should I know? I don’t have contact with Horatio. He’s in prison for fucking me over, remember?” He returns his attention to the screen and replays the scene, zooming in on Silas’s determined face.
“Shut it off,” I tell him.
He doesn’t but he sets the remote aside and comes to me. I press myself against the headboard.
“Dad. Give her some space,” Ethan says.
Sly ignores him though. “Did he rape you, Phee?” he asks, faux concern in his tone.
I shake my head.
“No? Because that’s how it could look. I mean, there were witnesses.”
“He didn’t…” I can’t say the word.
“He didn’t have to?”
I steel myself. I have to stand up to him. He’s a bully. “He didn’t rape me.”
“So you asked for it? Asked him to fuck you?”
“What do you want?” I ask, my words clipped.
“I’m going to lay things out for you. My bastard son did a number on you. I think he’s been playing at it for years, duping you when you were just a child. He’s got your head so turned around you’re willing to overlook the fact that he destroyed your home.”
“Why would he? He bought it for me.”
At that, he laughs outright. “Oh, my dear. I’m sorry. Oh, goodness.” He covers his mouth with his hand as he laughs at me, and I feel about two feet tall. “Do you know how much he would have gained from the insurance he took out on the house? Zero dollars now, of course, but I don’t think he anticipated getting caught. It’s about money, Phee. Life is about money.”
“That’s not true.”
“Believe what you want. The evidence is before your eyes.” He gestures to the screen. “So, here’s what’s going to happen now. You’re going to get up and get showered and you’re going to put on the beautiful dress Mira picked out for the big day.” I see it hanging on the closet door. “Then you and Ethan are going to go down to city hall, and you’re going to elope. I’ll explain it all to our friends, of course. After what happened at the gala, Silas raping you, well, my son did what he could to ease your pain.”
“Why do you even want this? I don’t understand how you could want me to marry Ethan.”
“I’m a romantic at heart, I suppose. Now, back to what I was saying. Should you choose not to go along with this of your own volition, well, you’ll be given another one of those shots to help you sleep and we’ll take care of it all. You’ll wake up Mrs. Ethan Fox. But when you do wake, you’ll have another reckoning—with me this time. Oh, and the restraining order against Silas Cruz? It will turn into that rape charge I mentioned. Clear?”
I stare up at him as he straightens, tucks his shirt sleeves out from under his jacket, and checks the time.
“Handle this, Ethan,” he says to his son, then, more cruelly: “Try not to fuck it up.”
23
OPHELIA
Iwatch Ethan, whose eyes are fixed on his father’s back, and the look inside them makes me shiver with cold. Once the door closes, he turns his gaze to me and I can see the moment he takes to rearrange his features, to show me the side of him he’s always shown me. Has he always been like this? Have I just never seen it? Never wanted to?
“You okay?” he asks and I have to wonder which face is the true face of Ethan Fox.
“You’re afraid of him,” I say.
His lip curls. “Was. I was afraid of him. He can’t touch me now.”
“He still controls you. You let him control you, Ethan.”
He walks toward the bathroom, turning his back to me. “Those days are coming to an end. Come on. Get showered. You’re not doing either of us any good sitting there.”
“Do you hate him?”
He considers this and I wonder if that time he takes is for my benefit or if he’s really thinking about my question and how to answer it “Yeah. Yeah, I think I do. It’s wicked, isn’t it? To hate one’s father?”