tight like a spring that’s about to snap.
One thing about my father is that he’s tenacious when it comes to business, to negotiations, and if he saw an inkling of nervous energy in me, he’d shut this thing down. I promised Nesrin I wouldn’t hurt her, but with Bradford Thorne, promises can’t always be kept.
“What about it?”
“I’d like Nesrin to accompany me.” Keeping my expression schooled, my voice calm, I meet his stare dead on. Deep down, I pray that he doesn’t see how much she means to me because if he did, he’d deny my request.
“Why? She’s got a good school the next town over, she will have Finn and Cassian here, if she needs them,” he speaks. “And her mother and I are here.” His words make no sense because I know Nesrin mentioned her mother said that Oxford was an option.
“Oxford would be a much better option for her.” His eyes, which match mine, fill with sinister intent. I’ve watched my father break down his opponents in the boardroom countless times, without batting an eyelash, and now, I’m the person he’s fighting against.
“Is there something you’re not telling me, Son?” he asks, his dark brow arching, as he regards me. The man is nearing fifty-six, and yet, he still looks like he’s in his forties.
“What could I be hiding?” I challenge him, painting a smirk on my face. The shrewd glare he’s taught me since I was fourteen is what I offer him in return.
“I’ve spoken to Marcia, and she’s agreed that, perhaps, Nesrin and Creed should attend the year-end ball together,” he expresses suddenly. The words turn my blood cold with shock but heat my chest with jealousy.
“No.”
Tilting his head to the side with mirth pasted over his expression, he asks, “Are you refusing me?”
“Yes. I am. She’s not to go near Creed or any of the Havens.”
“I’m the man of this house and what I say goes. I’ve spoken to Mallory and Octavius Haven. They’re setting up a date for the two of them for this weekend. You’ll be gone by then. Didn’t you tell me you wanted to leave as soon as possible?” And there it is, the challenge. My father knows more than I’ve told him, more than he’s letting on because he would never ask me that otherwise.
“I do. And I think in Nesrin’s best interest, she should leave with me.” I push up from the chair and make my way over to Dad’s liquor cabinet. Grabbing a tumbler, I pour a generous shot of bourbon. The amber liquid shimmers in the dim light of his office. The alcohol swills around the edge of the crystal, before I swallow it down in one gulp. The burn helps my focus. He’s not going to relent until I tell him I want her.
“Damien, I’ve known you all your life. You can’t lie to me and expect me to relinquish anything in your care.”
“Why? Because everything I touch turns to shit?” I bite out, but I don’t look at him. For years, my father blamed my teenage rage, as the reason my mother walked out, but he never looked in the mirror when he needed a reason.
“Because she’s your sister.”
Spinning on my heel, I pin him with a stare. “And?” My free hand fists at my side, but I know he can’t see it. The tension in my shoulders has hardened, twisting my muscles tight. If he thinks I’m letting her go, he’s sorely mistaken, because I will steal her from this house if I have to.
“I’ll make you a deal,” he tells me earnestly. Those blue eyes that remind me of mine hold more malice than mine ever could. I never trusted his deals; I’ve seen how he controlled those around him, using his power of influence. Perhaps that’s where I learned it from.
“I was taught never to make a deal with the devil,” I tell him, the biting words causing him to flinch, but it’s the only reaction I get. It’s miniscule, but I saw it.
“Are there feelings involved?” he asks suddenly. “Because she’s your sister and I doubt anyone in this town would approve.”
“You’re more concerned with the approval of others than you are of your own family,” I tell him. “Nesrin is mine.” My admittance causes a sly grin to spread across his face. My father is nothing more than a bully, but I’m a grown man, and if I want something, I’ll take it. “If I take your deal, I