more rough edges. It would be easy to tell myself that they were the ones who were guilty of committing the crimes, or that they were the ones who came up with the plans to make money illegally. But that wouldn't be fair.
It was easy to stick to the facts in journalism. It wasn't so easy when it came to my family.
Do not let him convince you that you’re wrong. What you saw, and what you heard is real. You know the truth. You have evidence. He’s not an innocent bystander. Your father is guilty.
After standing there for a long pause, I motioned my father toward my sitting area. Yes, I had a sitting area in my room. A year ago when I’d graduated from college, I’d hired a designer to redo it. It was decorated in subtle gray tones, with lime green accents.
I wasn’t sure my father had ever been in here before, certainly not in years. So the fact that he’d bothered to come to my room told me he knew what had happened.
My heart was already pounding, but now it was beating so hard I could hear the blood surging through my body.
It sucked to be nervous around your own father.
I sat down on a cream-colored upholstered chair. My father sat directly across from me. I didn’t speak. I was going to wait for him to reveal what exactly he knew.
“It's come to my attention that you found out some information about my business.”
Business was a generous term for the racket he was running.
I nodded, but I didn’t speak. I might feel like I was in trouble, but he was the one at fault here, not me.
“I’m not going to lie to you and deny it. I think at this point, that would be futile.”
I nodded again. It would definitely be pointless.
“The information you gathered is accurate. I can’t imagine how you must feel about it, but it’s true. I have been involved in those activities.”
My jaw dropped. I’d expected a denial. I’d expected a bombastic colorful explanation of why he wasn’t running a criminal enterprise. But my smooth-talking father didn’t lie. He told the truth.
“I won’t excuse it. But I will ask for your forgiveness.”
My father might want me around. He loved me, in his own way. But his partners definitely did not. They were going to want me to keep my mouth closed.
“I don’t know what to say,” I replied. I did have one question. “How did Christopher know?”
“I’ve always had a security detail watching you. That bodyguard told Christopher where you were, before I could intervene.”
“You had me followed.”
“Yes. I won’t apologize for that. The world is a crazy place.”
The nerve of him. “How much of that danger came from the illegal casinos you run? And the thugs you’ve hired?”
His eyes darted away. “Probably a good portion.”
I woke up with an uneasy feeling. It was seven a.m., and the house was completely silent. I didn’t hear any of our staff. Usually they were already cleaning or making breakfast.
I stopped by our home office, but it was empty too.
However, my father had the security cameras pulled up on his monitor. They were aimed at our back porch, and apparently they were equipped to pick up audio as well. I heard the sound of men’s voices, and then my father and both of his partners were sitting down.
Just seeing Christopher again sent my heart rocketing.
With trembling knees, I lowered myself into his desk chair and watched. Had my father purposefully left the surveillance videos pulled up? I knew we had cameras, but I thought only our security guard had access to them.
Had my father always watched all of our guests? It was really creepy that the camera on the back porch could pick up voices. I’d thought they were only to protect us from break ins or home invasions.
A chill ran down my spine.
“You talked to her?” Christopher asked.
By ‘her’ he obviously meant me.
My father handed them each a glass of what looked like bourbon. “Yes. Last night.”
“What’d you tell her?” That was Carl’s voice.
“The truth.”
“What the fuck are you thinking? She’s a reporter.”
“She’s my daughter.”
Carl leaned back and took a long swig of his drink. “She’s not our daughter.”
My father sat up straight. “You stay away from her. You are not allowed to speak to her.”
Someone made a derisive snorting sound. I think it was Christopher. “That’s great for you. You're her dad. She won’t rat you out.”
“I’ve already told her I’m leaving the business.”
“You