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“Why have you never had a job?”
While researching Kyra, I found some interesting things which don’t match the woman I’m discovering. She’s had a limited education and no work experience. Generally speaking, you would assume a person like that was lacking intelligence or drive.
I clearly don’t know her well, but I don’t think that is the case.
She blinks up at me and those shutters are back over her eyes as her hands falls from my face. “I have a trust fund.”
“Bullshit. Tell me the truth.”
God, she’s always lying to me. What is she covering up?
“I do.” She frowns.
“I know you have a fucking trust fund. But why did you not go to college?”
Her cheeks flush red and it even deepens the skin on her exposes decolletage.
The black silk dress I had chosen for her has simple straps and dips between her breasts. The skirt finishes just below her knees but has a split which I’ve taken advantage of already this evening.
“I wasn’t given the option. My parents felt marrying the right man was the best path for me.” Kyra says and stops dancing.
“You didn’t feel the same?” I ask.
“I did what my parents told me to do. I was a child.”
A compliant child.
I grip her chin angrily hating that she never fought for herself. “And did you have dreams? Passions. Who do you want to be Kyra?”
Her eyes lift to mine as she whispers, “Free.”
Fuck.
––––––––
I LEAD KYRA off the dance floor and down a private hallway. Travis gave us all access to the private rooms that lay beyond our usual party area.
I’ve only ever used them to take urgent business phone calls. Taking a woman into one always felt too intimate. As if it gives the impression there is something more personal going on.
Well, there’s something going on right now.
Guilt for one.
Dominance for another. It’s threading its way through every cell in my body.
And a protective nature I never knew I had. Yes, I’d fight to protect my brothers, but a woman? Never. Beyond just being a decent guy. I would never stand back and let a girl get hurt.
But knowing Kyra’s parents restricted her education and never let her thrive when she’s clearly a smart, vibrant, and incredible woman has me feeling a little murder-y.
Mine failed me in ways most children on the planet will never know—thank fuck—but that doesn’t mean there aren’t other forms of abuse.
I know wealthy families like this. They groom their daughters to marry men. But to my father? He’s fucking old.
She’s twenty-two goddamn years old. Even I’m too old for her at thirty-one.
Kyra has never been given the chance to become who she truly could be, and I’m furious.
Who do you want to be Kyra?