My eyes were wide on my face. “Godric, wait. My father—”
“I don’t give a damn about your father right now,” he interrupted. He stormed forward and pointed at the photo. “How the hell do you have a picture of us like this? No one was in the room then.”
My mouth bobbed, horror etching my features.
My father cleared his throat. “That’s Mr. King, I presume, Poppy?”
CHAPTERTHIRTY-THREE
Godric’s shoulders tensed and his attention snapped to my bracelet. “Yes, it is. Who the fuck is this?”
“My father,” I hissed. “I tried to tell you.”
His mouth snapped shut, and his features cleared of all emotion as he turned into Mr. King, the businessman. “General Carvene, you’ll have to excuse me. I didn’t recognize your voice.”
My father snorted. “Yes, I could tell you were distracted by the way you were berating my daughter.”
Godric’s eyes peered skyward. He sighed heavily. “I imagine you have questions about what you overheard.”
“I do. That can be saved for when I get there. We will talk in person then.” My father hummed. “We can discuss something else now. That photo you are so upset about, the picture I wanted to burn my eyes out after seeing, was sent to me.”
Godric’s shoulders stiffened, and he peered back down to the intimate image. His tone flattened—a dangerous sound. “This was sent to you?”
“Yes. About a half hour ago. It’s untraceable.”
Godric’s jaw clenched.
“Did you have guards outside the room?”
“Yes,” he growled.
My father went silent, and then asked, “Are your men targeting my daughter or are we the targets?”
Smart, smart man.
He didn’t jump to conclusions.
My father had one army. Godric had the other.
Spark a fire between the two, and there would be war again. Anyone wanting to take over would merely wait until they destroyed each other. No work done on their part other than sending a racy photo to an overprotective father.
Godric rubbed the back of his neck, his eyebrows furrowing in thought. “Was it just the photo sent?”
“Yes. There wasn’t a note.”
“Then it’s probably us. I’ll look into it.”
“I’ll expect a report,” my father said, and then he switched topics. “I’ll arrive in New City tomorrow. We’ll talk then about private issues.”
“Bye, Father,” I quickly added.
“Call me if you need me before then. Goodbye.”
He ended the call.
I quickly tapped my bracelet.
The image disappeared.
