It’s a Friday afternoon when everything changes.
I’m reading in the library when Lionel appears in the doorway, his expression carefully neutral.
“Mrs. Moretti, you have a visitor.”
“Who?”
“Your father.”
The book falls from my hands. “My father?”
“He’s waiting in the main sitting room.”
I walk through the house on unsteady legs, my mind racing. I haven’t seen Marcus Vale in over eight months, not since I ran away from Dante. What could he possibly want now?
I find him standing by the windows, looking out at the gardens with his back to me. He’s thinner than I remember, his shoulders narrower, his hair grayer. When he turns around, I see new lines around his eyes and a desperation that makes my chest tighten.
“Kasi.”
“Dad.”
We stare at each other across the elegant room, and for a moment I’m twenty years old again, believing my father would protect me from anything.
“You look well,” he says finally. “Prosperous.”
“What do you want?”
“Can’t a father visit his daughter?”
“Not this father. Not after what you did.”
He has the grace to look ashamed, at least. “I made mistakes.”
“Mistakes?” The word comes out sharper than intended. “You sold me, Dad. Like cattle.”
“I was desperate. The debts were crushing me. I thought…I thought it would work out. That you’d be happy.”
“Happy?” I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “You thought I’d be happy being sold to a sociopath?”
“Dante had money, status. I thought he’d take care of you.”
“He tortured me for two years.”
Marcus winces. “I didn’t know he was like that. If I had known?—”
“You would have done it anyway because you needed the money.”
He doesn’t deny it, which tells me everything I need to know.
“Why are you here?” I ask.
“The debts are mounting again. Worse than before. I need help.”
And there it is. The real reason for this visit. My heart breaks all over again, not because I’m surprised, but because some naive part of me hoped he’d come to apologize.
“You need money.”
“Just a loan. To tide me over until I can get back on my feet.”
