Page 85 of Fatal Fantasy

Within seconds, we’re surrounded on all sides, men in black suits with guns aimed at the three of us fanning out to cover each quadrant of our space, and like clockwork, my father steps out from the back seat, his eyes immediately landing on me.

“Richards doesn’t drive for me anymore,” he says with a chuckle, the coldness in his voice proving that he’s in full Don mode, and although I want to drop my head in defeat, I stand strong as I face my father head-on for the first time since he stole me from Emory.

It’s been months since I looked at my father, always keeping our proximity to one another non-existent, but now that I’m actually looking into the bright blue eyes that are identical to mine, I can see how close to death he is.

Of course, he still has incredible fashion sense, the ‘Father of the Bride’ suit he’s donning is tailored to perfection, and the shade of pink he’s chosen as his tie is charming.

He absolutely looks the part, and at quick glance, nobody would believe that he sold my hand for the marriage, forcing his precious daughter into a partnership from hell.

“Not since his wife threatened to kill you if you guys ended up in another ditch,” I sarcastically laugh, the memories flooding me from the days they’d sip vodka and knock runners off the roads for their insubordination.

Caught up in my fantasy of revenge, I completely missed that detail when we combed through surveillance this morning, and I should’ve caught this – should’ve known we were heading straight into an ambush.

My father is nothing but calculated, and I’ve fallen right into his trap, staring at an army of guns as we find ourselves in the middle of a standoff.

“Bring her to me,” my father orders, but Jasper immediately jumps in front of a gun, inserting himself between a guard, and my body.

“We can speak from here,” he says protectively, keeping one arm around me, the other holding a weapon trained on the guard stalking toward us.

“Son, I’m not speaking to you. Carter, now,” my father says, his words slow but powerful, and like the trained poodle I am, I shimmy from Jasper’s grip, crossing the sand toward what will either be my greatest victory, or gruesome demise.

“Don’t you fucking dare, Carter,” Tyson hisses through his teeth, but instead of pushing him away, I hold my hand out to his, encouraging him with my eyes to be my escort.

This is between my father and I, but we never negotiated terms, and if he can have an army of men within arms reach, so can I.

“If I’m not walking down an aisle today, the least I can do is feel like a princess before I’m reduced to nothing but a peasant at your mercy,” I quip, the sarcastic ass that lives within me unable to miss a moment to shine light on how ridiculous of a situation we’re in.

“So much to say, but never anything of use, Duchess,” he states, shaking his head in disappointment at my smart mouth, but as I stand tall against him, I don’t feel a single tether leading me back to the life I used to live.

With Jasper to my left, his watchful eyes burning a hole through my skin, and Tyson to my right, his protective energy radiating into my bones, I tap into the source of power they bring me, attempting to use it to my advantage.

“You lost, Daddy. There’s no groom, no wedding, and certainly no heir to your precious throne, so why go through all of this … just to get me back?” I taunt, noting how his face slightly contorts at my words, his mask slipping for just a brief moment.

“I don’t lose, you know better than that,” he stoically remarks, his false sense of bravado in the face of the unknown almost comical.

With a snap of his fingers, two red dots appear on Jasper and Tyson’s foreheads, the gunmen perched on the hood and sunroof of his SUV, but I just shrug it off, not letting him see how the thought of losing my boys incites fear in every single molecule that makes up my body.

With every tug and pull, my father and I are catching each other off guard, proving just how well we play a rousing game of cat and mouse, but showing how far we’ll go to be the sole winner.

“It’s time to come home, Carter. Which one of these boys do you love more? When faced with the choice, who will you let die in order to keep defying me?” He challenges, holding his arms wide open as if he were the King of the world, but I’ve bowed down to him once in the name of protecting my boys, and I don’t plan on making it a habit.

Slowly, I shuffle my feet until I’m crossing the imaginary line, meeting my father in the middle until his desiccating frame towers over mine, but I refuse to feel small under his rule for another second.

Before I can utter a plea, a smart remark, or unleash the string of curse words that are dancing on the tip of my tongue, he pulls me in for a hug, my arms falling at my sides while his cocoon me into an embrace that feels nothing like comfort.

He’s a shell of the man I grew up admiring, almost a skeleton as his bones crack around mine, but I inhale a deep breath, gently pulling back with the fakest smile I can manage painted on my face.

“There’s my Duchess,” he smiles back, but it’s just as genuine as mine, and before I can react, he wraps an arm around my throat, spinning my back against his front, holding a gun to my head as I’m forced to open my eyes to Tyson and Jasper’s.

Jasper lunges first, his feet catching the rest of his body as the reminder of a target painted on his forehead prevents him from taking a single step in my direction.

Tyson stays calm, his voice-of-reason attitude remaining his strongest quality, but I can read through his tough act, the pain exuding from his body and materializing in the air as their worst fears play out in real time.

“Jasper. Do it!” I yell, not caring about preservation, negotiation, or retribution, only the slim promise of freedom that I made when conjuring up this exact scenario.

As a former prisoner, I refuse to go back to the confines of his castle, and all I have left is the hope that Jasper can honor our deal, putting an end to my misery.

“Carter, we can get out of this.” His icy silver irises finally meet mine, practically begging me not to make him do this, but we’re exactly where I said we’d be, and I’m not backing down.