heat from her palms is practically scalding her thighs, and she tries to focus her mantra in her head through the outrage. Breathe. Stay in control. Damn, Brielle!
He narrows his eyes at her. “Do you think I would joke about something as important as my business? Do you think my business is a joke?”
Cassandra’s spine stiffens as she realizes her mistake.
Never question him.
The sudden absence of heat has her thighs feeling chilled. Or is that just the look in his eyes.
She shakes her head. “Of course not. I just don’t think she would be a good fit for the office.” She tries to pass a dismissive giggle and rolls her eyes. “I’ve gone to school with that girl my whole life, and she’s not as smart as she seems.”
Cassandra knows this is a lie, that Brielle is possibly too smart for her own good, but she’ll say anything to dissuade her father from making this blatant and massive mistake.
“Thank you for your concern, Cassandra, but I’ll be the judge of that,” he says.
The rest of the dinner passes in awkward silence, her mantra a constant chant in her head as she tries to keep the heat at bay, sitting on her hands like that will help. She dreads the evening’s end as Uncle George and Julia prepare to leave.
“See you tomorrow?” Julia asks as she shrugs into her coat by the front door.
“Of course,” Cassandra says, hugging her with arms that don’t want to let go.
“Can we play Mario Kart again?” Julia whispers, stealing a glance at Cassandra’s father behind her.
“We’ll see,” Cassandra whispers back even quieter, then winks.
Julia’s smile spreads wide.
And then they leave.
The silence in the house is so fine, Cassandra can hear the soft pad of her father’s shoes on the carpet as he moves to the front door.
And locks it.
The click of that little knob is deafening, and Cassandra flinches. She wants to run to her room, to barricade herself in and escape what she knows is coming. But like the good daughter she is, she stays perfectly still, waiting.
“You will not go to work for your uncle,” he says, his voice low but full of authority.
Her throat contracts several times as she tries and fails to swallow. “I was just being polite about his offer. I know my academics come first. And honestly, I’d much rather work for you. Brielle is—”
“How dare you contradict me,” he snaps, rage simmering in his dark eyes. “Especially in front of company. Especially in front of him.”
Fear spears down her spine. “I’m so sorry, sir,” she stammers in panic. “It’s just that I—”
“You thought you know better than I do, is that it?” He steps closer, his fingers pulling the end of the leather belt at his waist to release the buckle.
She stumbles backward. Her head is shaking back and forth so rapidly, she could give herself whiplash. “No! Of course, not.”
“I think you need to be reminded of your place,” he hisses as he pulls the belt completely free.
“No, please,” she whimpers, backing into the wall. “I promise I’ll never question you again.”
“I’ll make sure of that.”
The belt comes down, and Cassandra withdraws inside herself, digging her nails so deep into her palms that all the pain becomes white noise.
Maybe this time, his fury will be over in just a few lashes.
5
Tristan
“Can he even do that?” Jareth asks, a hint of panic in his voice.
Tristan rakes his hand through his hair. “I don’t know.” He holds Jareth’s gaze. “I think so.”
“But you’re not sure?”
Yep, definitely a thread of panic in there.
With a sigh, Tristan pushes up from his chair, the need to pace zinging through his body. He can’t blame Jareth for freaking out. The message wasn’t exactly full of hope.
Changes in dark matter.
Wormhole being built somewhere.
Chardis is up to something.
“I only know what Zarius told me,” Tristan says, trying to keep the edge out of his voice. “But as you know, dark matter essentially makes up most of the Universe, it’s just that humans only know of it theoretically.”
Jareth nods. “Yep, you explained that to me. Humans haven’t been able to detect it yet, just prove its existence mathematically. Basically, things like gravitational effects can’t be explained unless more matter is present than can be seen.”
Glad that Jareth was paying attention, Tristan’s pacing picks up. “But to more advanced humanoids out there”—he points to himself and Jareth— “dark matter has been proven. And through some sick twist of physics, somewhere, somehow, dark matter gained sentience.”
“Chardis,” Jareth says