Don’t worry. My lips are sealed.” Carol twisted her wedding ring. “You have someone there with you? Rhiannon?”
Unease slithered through Katrina. “What’s going on?”
“I have some bad news. Your dad somehow got my digits.” Her lip curled. Carol had always seen right through her dad. Which was the main reason Katrina had hired her later. “He called me today and asked if I have a contact number for you.”
Her mouth went dry. “That is bad news.”
“I’m so sorry, Katrina. I stonewalled him, but I assume he’s calling everyone you used to work with.” Carol’s gaze was worried. “If he digs and finds out I work here . . .”
“He’ll probably rightly assume I’m behind the fund.” Damn it.
You have a plan for this. You have multiple contingency plans in place for this. “Text me his number.” She was proud of how well-modulated her voice was.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” They said their goodbyes, Carol still looking worried. Katrina’s phone buzzed almost immediately.
A number couldn’t be evil. Could it?
Her finger hovered over the delete button, ready to exorcise it. There was no good reason to ever be back in touch with her dad, right? At the very least, she could have Jas or Rhiannon in the room with her when she did this. If she did this.
Actually.
Wait. Wait a damn minute.
Katrina straightened. This asshole had the nerve to come sniffing around, after everything he’d done to her? After Hardeep had given him bags of money to go away? Oh no.
She took a deep breath, and let the anger rise up. Anger was good, especially when it was this cold, fiery anger.
Katrina mentally flipped through those elaborate plans she’d crafted for just this possibility, until she found her favorite one. Yes, she was doing this. She could do this, and she could do it on her own. She wasn’t the same scared child she’d been the last time she’d dealt with her father.
She rose and went upstairs quietly, to her bedroom, lest Jas hear. She masked her number first, so it wouldn’t show. Even her number was too much information for her biological father to have.
The phone rang once, twice, and then a man’s gruff voice came over the line. “Yeah?”
Sweat beaded on her upper lip, but her anger kept her cold.
“Hello?” he prompted.
Thomas King sounded different, and yet not. She hadn’t spoken to him since the day after her wedding, when Hardeep had paid him a substantial amount of cash to go away. Actually, had she spoken? No, she’d stayed silent. She’d been too scared. Hardeep and her father had coldly worked out the financial arrangements.
That was okay, for who she’d been then. She was different now, even if he was not.
She took up space now. She was happy. Radically happy. “Hello,” she said.
“Katrina.” He sounded triumphant. He’d known she would call if he rattled some cages.
“Father. I hear you’re trying to find me.”
He paused, like he was surprised she’d confront him so bluntly, and maybe that was surprising to him. “The whole world’s trying to find you.”
She nodded, her suspicions confirmed. Blackmail.
She was numb now, the kind of icy control that came with pure rage. “So you recognized me in those photos.”
“What man can’t recognize his own daughter? Even if she doesn’t look quite the same as she used to.”
Her dad had always been freakishly obsessed with her face and body. They’d been, after all, tools to make him money.
Katrina wrapped her arms around her middle. She would not think one negative thing about her physical appearance. She loved it. She loved herself. He was a monster, and she was beautiful the way she was. “You have one minute to tell me what you want before I hang up. The clock is ticking.”
He hesitated, but something must have convinced him she was being sincere, because he spoke in a rush. “The world wants to know who CuteCafeGirl is. I know you well, daughter, and understand how much you value your privacy, how fragile you are. So I wanted to assure you I wouldn’t tell anyone who you are.”
The ice thawed enough for her to shake. Fragile. That was the word he’d used to convince her that she needed him so much, that he was the only one who would be able to take care of her, that she was incapable of looking after herself.
Two panic attacks in public settings, two hospital visits. That was all it had taken for her father to get her fully under his control.