The crowd erupts in applause while I sit frozen, watching my father transform his abuse into a political platform, his control into concern, his rage into righteousness.
My hands shake so violently that I can barely hold my phone. Rage pulses through me in waves, each heartbeat sending a fresh surge of fury through my veins. I navigate to my contacts, thumb hovering over Liam’s name. Of all three men, he’s the strategist, the one who understands the legal and political implications of what my father just did.
I hit call before I can second-guess myself.
“Hey, sweetheart.” His voice comes through immediately, calm but with an underlying tension that tells me everything.
“You saw it?” The words catch in my throat.
“I’m watching it right now.”
I pace across the living room, my free hand clenching and unclenching. “He’s using me. Again. Like I’m nothing but a political prop.” My voice cracks. “He’s twisting everything, making himself the victim, the concerned father when he?—”
I stop myself, breathe. The memories of his fists, his words, and the bruises hidden beneath designer clothes flash through my mind.
“He is the one who systematically isolated me!” I spit out. “He’s the one who monitored my phone, my friends, my fucking meals. He’s the one who regularly beat me whenever I didn’t agree with him.”
Liam doesn’t interrupt, just lets me rage.
“That son of a bitch thinks he can use me to become governor. After everything he’s done.” I stop pacing, an eerie calm descending amidst my anger. “We need to teach him a lesson.”
“What did you have in mind?” Liam’s voice shifts, interest piqued.
“I don’t know yet. But I’m done being his victim. I’m done being anyone’s victim.”
“That’s our brave girl,” Liam says, his voice warm with approval. It sends an unexpected flutter through my chest. “We’ll figure something out. Tonight, when everybody’s home, we’ll sit down and discuss our next steps.”
I sink back onto the couch, trembling but somehow steadied by his words. By the “we.”
“He named all of you,” I say, my voice smaller now. “Directly called you out. He’s going to use this campaign to come after you. After us.”
“Let him try,” Liam says confidently. “Your father’s not the only one with resources, Cora. And he’s certainly not the only one who knows how to manipulate public opinion.”
I stare at the television where they’re now dissecting my father’s announcement, political analysts already speculating about my absence. About the “troubled relationship” between Mayor Pike and his daughter.
“I should have seen this coming,” I whisper. “Of course he’d use me as a prop in his campaign. He’s been grooming me for this my entire life.”
“Don’t,” Liam says firmly. “Don’t blame yourself for his manipulation. But Cora—” he pauses, and I hear the subtle shift in his tone, “are you sure about this? Once we move against him, there’s no going back.”
I think about the bruises that have finally faded from my skin. About the years of control masked as concern. About the political aspirations that always, always came before my happiness.
“I’ve never been surer of anything.”
I end the call with Liam, my hands still shaking as I stare at the TV. My father’s face continues to dominate the screen, his practiced sincerity making me feel physically ill. The thought of waiting hours for everyone to return is suddenly unbearable. The empty penthouse feels too large, too quiet, with only my racing thoughts for company.
I grab my phone again and call Ryder. He picks up on the second ring.
“Hey princess,” his voice comes through, warm and instantly calming.
“Can you come home?” The vulnerability in my voice surprises even me. “I just saw my father’s announcement and I—” I break off, unable to properly articulate the storm of emotions coursing through me.
“I’m already on my way,” Ryder says immediately. “I saw it too. Give me two minutes.”
The relief that floods me is startling in its intensity. I pace the living room, hugging myself tightly as I wait, glancing repeatedly at the elevator doors.
True to his word, barely two minutes pass before I hear the elevator ping. The doors slide open, revealing Ryder looking concerned and slightly disheveled.
I don’t remember deciding to move. I’m just suddenly across the room, throwing my arms around him, burying my face against his chest. His arms wrap around me immediately, strong and secure.
