“So that’s it? I’m a Tremaine courier for the rest of my life?” She’d loved her job, the freedom it allowed. Now it was just another cage. One she’d never escape.
Dizzie couldn’t square the man who was keeping her around for spare parts with someone who was willing to let her risk her life as a courier. “And if I wanted a different position? A desk job?”
He stared at her a long moment and she struggled not to squirm. His gaze was empty. Cold. Calculating. He was obviously gauging her worth. “You took the same exams as every other corporate orphan, right? Looks like that’s all you were good for.”
What an asshole. Dizzie dropped back into her chair. What did it matter now? With a few words, he’d destroyed her hopes and dreams. There’d be no escape from the layers and layers of Tremaine family machinations.
Dizzie swallowed hard. She was trapped. But maybe not everyone had to be. “The, um, other kids in the orphanage. Are they…are they all like me?”
“My children?” Tremaine laughed. “Oh, no. Only you and Portia are mine. The others? Some are like you, bastards of others loyal to me kept around for emergencies.”
“And the others?”
“Spare parts for those who can afford it.”
His ominous omission hung in the air between them. The older kids that they’d been told had bought their freedom…had it all been a lie? Dizzie thought of Alice and her heart broke. There had to be a way to get this story out, to save them. Pulse racing, she asked, “What happens now?”
“Now? I can make this all go away.” He waved his hand dismissively.
That sounded too good to be true.
“I don’t think Portia is going to like that.”Why, Dizzie, why did you say that?Why remind him that his other daughter—his heir! — hated her?
“I’ll take care of Portia.”
Yeah, that didn’t sound ominous at all. “And me?”
“I think we’ve come to an understanding. Haven’t we?” Again, that piercing look.
Sure. If knowing that her life would never truly be free could be called an understanding. “Yes.” What else could she say?
She didn’t know what to do next. Leave? Wait to be dismissed?
The office door flew open with enough force to hit the wall. Dizzie jumped and whirled around.
The click-click-click of heels identified the newcomer. Portia. She looked pissed, her lips pinched, her eyes narrowed. Dizzie was petty enough to take some pleasure in knowing her “escape” probably contributed to the irate look the other woman wore.
A contingent of heavily armed Tremaine Security personnel followed her into the office. “Seize her!”
Portia had barely spoken before Dizzie was surrounded. Two guards grabbed her arms, pulling them tight behind her. She didn’t struggle. She was too far outnumbered.
Dizzie wanted out of this office. If that meant leaving with security, she’d take it. Man, things had changed.
Phillip Tremaine stood. His presence dominated the room in a way she hadn’t noticed before.
“What do you think you’re doing, Portia?” He didn’t raise his voice, but Portia shrank under his attention.
Then his heir shook off the effect and asserted herself. “What am I doing?” Her voice was incredulous. “What are you doing? Having tea with the woman who killed my husband?”
Dizzie was impressed in spite of herself. She couldn’t imagine what it had been like to grow up with this man. The security team had formed a ring around Dizzie, forcing her to stand on tiptoes to watch the conversation. She was a little pissed that she hadn’t gotten the height that Portia and Portia’s father had.
“What Dizzie and I were discussing is none of your concern.” Tremaine’s words dripped with dismissal.
“Dizzie, is it?” She snapped out the words in disbelief.
“Don’t be tedious, Portia. A mere courier is no threat to you.”
Should she be insulted? She didn’t disagree. She was surrounded by security with no place to run.
