Another round of anxiety furrows low in my belly.
He studies me without speaking, and his gaze lands on the faint tremor still running through my thigh.
I lift my chin despite it.
He steps closer. Then slaps my cheek with no warning.
My head snaps sideways. The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth where my teeth catch my inner cheek.
Ironically, it's not brutal. If he wanted to really hurt me, he would have hit harder.
He wants to establish a hierarchy.
I turn back slowly.
He crouches in front of me, eye level. In a quiet voice, he asserts, "You mistake access for ownership."
"If you're referring to Blue," I reply evenly, fighting the shocks still running through my limbs, "she's an adult."
A punch lands in my stomach so fast, I don't brace for it.
Air explodes out of me. My vision tunnels. My body tries to curl forward, but the zip ties hold me in place, forcing me to absorb the impact without protection.
"You will not speak her name," Adrian seethes.
I swallow through the pain.
He stands and circles me slowly, the click of his dress shoes precise against the concrete. He continues, "You're intelligent. Educated. Established. You have a reputation to protect."
I breathe through my nose, trying to recover from the punch.
"And yet you involve yourself with my family. My daughter," he sneers.
"She's an adult," I repeat.
His hand grips my jaw hard enough that I feel the pressure in my teeth. He grits, "You think this is mutual? You think she chose you freely?"
I manage to get out, "She did."
His thumb presses into my cheek, forcing my mouth slightly open as he studies my expression like a specimen. He scowls deeper. "Youunderestimate influence." He releases me and nods toward one of the men.
He brings an envelope and places it in Adrian's hand.
He opens it slowly and removes photographs.
My pulse spikes.
He holds one up.
It's grainy but clear enough. Blue's stressed, her eyes are too bright, like someone turned the saturation up a notch past natural. Her blown-wide pupils swallow color, making her gaze look fever-hot and restless.
Adrian demands, "You think she's in a healthy mental state to make good decisions?"
My stomach turns cold.
Adrian watches my reaction carefully.
I drag my gaze from the photo to him. "Her struggles don't negate her ability to make choices."
