He studies me for a moment. "Did he treat you respectfully?"
The fact that he's asking should make me feel better, but it doesn't. "Yes."
"And?"
I blink. "And what?"
"Did you find him reasonable?"
Reasonable: not kind, not attractive, not whether I liked him, but reasonable.
"Yes," I answer carefully. "He was honest."
Dad nods, apparently that's the correct answer. "Good."
Relief loosens something in my chest, only slightly.
He reaches for a file sitting on the corner of his desk. "The engagement party is in two weeks."
"Okay."
"There will be a lot of eyes on you."
I nod. "I know."
"The Syndicate will be watching how you conduct yourself."
My stomach twists, not because he's being harsh, but because he's right. They’ll be watching and judging me.
"They'll be watching Lorenzo too," I point out quietly.
"They will." His gaze settles on me. "But Lorenzo is expected to know how to handle that attention. You are still learning."
Something inside me shrinks, I don’t outwardly show it, because it happens all the same.
"I understand."
"I know you do." His voice softens slightly. "Quinn, this alliance is important."
There it is, the real reason I'm here, it’s not because he's worried about me, or because he's checking how I feel, but because the alliance matters, the Syndicate matters, and the family matters, which doesn’t include me, and my job is to make sure I don't become a problem.
"I won't do anything to embarrass the family." The words come automatically, I've said versions of them my entire life.
Dad nods, seemingly satisfied. "Good."
Silence settles between us and I wait. Years of experience have taught me the meeting isn't over until he says it is. Finally, he leans back in his chair. "I know this isn't what you expected."
I stare at him, and for one stupid second, hope flares. Maybe he's going to ask if I'm okay, or acknowledge what happened.
"But life rarely gives us what we expect."
The hope dies just as quickly. "Yes, Da."
He smiles approvingly, it’s the smile I spent years chasing. "I knew I could rely on you."
The words hit me harder than they should, because that's all I've ever wanted. Not love or praise, but approval. I hate that it still works. "Thank you, Da."
He picks his paperwork back up, the meeting is over. "You're dismissed."
