amusement. “So the Constantine girl wants it in writing.”
“Yes. I do. And I want something else, too.”
“You’re a greedy thing, aren’t you? I said I would let your father go. I won’t agree to kiss away your tears and tuck you in at night.”
The thought of him doing those things is another layer of fire on my face, on my skin. The fact that he expects tears...Jesus. I’m going to be charred at this rate. “I don’t want that.” It’s true enough. I don’t want comfort from a Morelli, even if a secret part of me does want to know what it would be like for that mouth and those hands to touch me like that. “I want this to stay between us.”
Leo picks up a slim portfolio and moves it in front of him. “Embarrassed to be working with a Morelli, is that it?”
“No.” Yes. And embarrassed that the sound of his voice is doing something shameful to me. “My family—we’re not like the other Constantines.”
“And you’re a special girl, not like all the others,” he taunts.
“That’s not what I mean.” I take a deep, steadying breath and keep my hands in my lap, though I want to cover my face so much that my wrists ache. “You know it. You know that we’re not in the inner circle. That’s why you chose my dad. You knew he would be an easy target.”
“He was.” Leo laughs. “So desperate to get money for his toys. So trusting...”
My throat aches. Yes, my dad is trusting. Yes, he is naive. Yes, his family let him down, again and again and again. “They’ll hurt him if they find out he made a deal with you. Caroline might hurt all of us.”
Darkness flickers through his eyes, but it’s gone so fast it must have been a trick of the light. “I’ve already done your daddy a favor, and now you want me to save his sorry ass, too?”
“Yes.”
“Christ. I’ve never met a family more helpless than yours.” He opens the folio and scrawls something on the front page, punctuating it with a hard line. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to thank me for saving you. Twice, now.” Leo flips the folio and pushes it across the table, then holds the pen out. He waits a beat, then shakes it in front of my face. “You could start by not wasting my time.”
I take the pen, tears burning at the corners of my eyes. “Can I read the contract before I sign my life away, at least?”
“Your life.” Another dark laugh. “Only a month, darling. Are you really so fragile that a month with me would be the end of you?”
Maybe. I ignore him and read the words on the page. I haven’t signed a lot of contracts in my life, but it looks pretty standard. It says things like released from our agreement and unrestricted access and in exchange for a period of one calendar month or equal to thirty days. It says Haley Constantine. It says Phillip Constantine. On one margin, in Leo’s clear writing, it says Agreement between the parties to remain confidential.
“This is too much.” I feel sick with it. Like I’m hanging off the edge of a cliff by my fingertips. “Unrestricted access?”
“To your body,” Leo adds.
“It’s too far.”
He narrows his eyes. “Is it?” He opens a drawer in his desk and pulls out a sheaf of papers that look horribly familiar. “I, Philip Constantine, release all claims regarding copyright and trademark to Leo Morelli and Morelli Holdings. The transfer of intellectual property will be complete when a sum of $50,000 is paid by wire transfer.” The date for the transaction is today. Yesterday. It’s past midnight. The money has already been sent. “I waive all rights to further compensation for the licensing of my intellectual property and indemnify and hold harmless Leo Morelli and Morelli Holdings for any and all personal and professional losses, including those unforeseen.”
My face has gone tight. “That doesn’t—that’s not about one of his inventions.”
“You’re correct.” Leo smiles, the curve vicious in the firelight. “This contract includes all your father’s intellectual property. Would you like me to read the clause spelling out what happens to his future inventions?”
I stare at him, disbelieving. Not just the energy project. Not just a decorative invention, like the wind chime. Everything. Leo has taken everything. From now until forever. My father’s life’s work, gone with the stroke of a pen. He’ll never recover. When he realizes what he’s