“We got an advanced copy of the story Real Nation One’s going to run on Brenan Bardot.” He slid another folder over to me. “It’s worse than we thought.”
“In what respect?”
“It’s all in there.”
“Make a deal with Galante.” I threw the folder of potential staff back on the desk. “Once you’re in the White House give him some extra access for his channel.”
He tapped the folder I’d just handed back. “Break it off with Pandora.”
“What are you talking about?” But I knew.
“That folder contains prospective girlfriends.”
“What the fuck, Dad? No, you’re not doing that to me again.” I flicked the file his way. “Fuck off.”
“A scandal like this…”
I pushed to my feet. “I’m not calling it off.”
“We’ve discussed this with her parents. They’re going to explain it to Pandora.”
“You don’t get to make that decision for us.”
His fist thumped the desk. “We’ve come too far to have our chances ruined now.”
“I’ll find another way.”
“Your Fairfield Project. How much do you want it?”
The air crackled with tension; his threat weaving around a punishing promise. The truth of what he’d done—and what could be undone—reflected in those dark irises.
“What are you saying?” I asked softly.
“Family comes first.”
How could it be worth it? To gain the highest office but lose your soul.
“We can’t be seen as weak, son.”
“I know that.”
“Maybe construction will resume on Fairfield.” he said with the calmness of a sociopath. “If you do the right thing.”
The right thing…
What was this? Blackmail? Yes, that’s exactly what this man was doing…to his eldest son…to the boy who’d grown into a man feeling nothing but admiration for his father.
Until now.
My mouth went dry and I couldn’t form the words to respond to his abhorrent offer.
“You have until the end of the day.” He shooed me away. “Send in Theo.”
Fetch Theo yourself.
You’re not the President yet.
I walked out of his office, my gut twisted and wrenched, fearing they had already gotten to Pandora.
Had he forgotten his key? Or maybe because of the downpour Damien didn’t have time to dig for it, I thought, listening to the insistent rapping. I rushed to the front door to let him in.
Theo was hunched beneath an umbrella and getting soaked, his voice almost drowned out by the driving rain.
“Hurry, come in,” I said, opening the door wider. “Put your umbrella there.”
He shook it outside first and then rested it in the corner.
“Let me take your coat.”
“I’m fine.” He followed me toward the kitchen. “I have a key,” he admitted. “Didn’t want to scare you.”
“It would have been fine.” I watched to see if he glanced toward the red door. At least he was polite enough to feign no interest at what went on downstairs.
“Damien’s not here.” I headed over to the coffeemaker.
“Figured.”
“Let me get you a hot cup of java. Unless you’d prefer tea?”
I reached for my phone on the countertop.
“Don’t look at that right now.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I need you to trust me. Do you think you can do that?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Can you pack a bag? I can help if you like.”
“Where are we going?”
“We have a place in the city. Damien will meet us there.”
“You still share a place with him?’
“It’s where we host meetings when we don’t want to bring people to our homes, and for times when the office is too formal and hotel lobbies are too public.”
He’d mentioned the place once. Told me something about Madeline staying there while she was buying a home. “Did he say why we have to go there?”
Theo’s frown deepened. “I don’t need coffee. Best if you turn it off, actually.”
After unplugging the coffeemaker, I tried to figure out what he wasn’t saying. “I’ll call him.” I reached for my phone again.
“We need to go, actually. Right now.”
Theo hurried me upstairs to the bedroom and watched me pack. I gathered my toiletries from the bathroom and stuffed my clothes into my bag, all the while going over a thousand different scenarios as to why we had to leave so suddenly. I longed to question Theo, but he was insistent we talk on the way there.
My heart was thundering and my hands were trembling. I’d been ushered out of places with little notice before but usually I knew why—a security threat or a last-minute meeting that meant we all had to cut our day short and hop on a plane somewhere. Once your father enters politics your day becomes fluid.
After locking up the house, Theo drove us across the city.