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“There’s a friend who can lend us the money. To cover what you owe to the…” I glance behind me before I mouth the word mob.

“Is that so?” He steps back, crossing his arms over his chest.

I take in a deep breath and then reach inside the corseted bustier of my dress and retrieve the black card. Ever since Archer gave it to me, I’ve kept it close to my body. This little business card is literally our only lifeline. I’ve been too afraid to let it out of my sight.

Dad moves slowly toward me; his expression blank. My heart sinks because I don’t know if he’s offended by my offer or if he’s finally decided he’s irate that I didn’t mention any of this sooner.

“Daddy?” I want to run upstairs and hide, but I can’t move.

“Who gave you this?” He takes the card from my hand.

“A friend.” No idea why I want to protect Archer, especially now that I see that Dad isn’t pleased. “From work. She said this person is her friend. And can help.”

“I see.” His gaze darts around the room before it settles on me. “Have you spoken to this person yet?”

“No. I didn’t know if that would be the right thing to do. I kept the card in case the diamond didn’t turn up.” I breathe in, but my lungs refuse to let in the much-needed oxygen. “Mr. Archer expects his diamond tonight. But?—”

Dad puts up his hand. “Why don’t you go to bed? Get some rest. I will deal with this.” He holds the black card between his middle and index fingers.

“Okay.” I step toward him slowly then kiss his cheek. “Good night, Daddy.” I turn to leave.

“And Paloma.” He calls after me.

“Yeah?” I face him with my heart thrashing in my ears, tears brimming my eyes. I hate it when Dad is angry at me. I scratch the itch on my wrist while I stand there waiting for him to speak.

“Who else knows about this?” he asks.

“No one.” I shake my head, keeping my lie short.

“Good.” He nods once. “Don’t mention this card or our situation to anyone else. Do you understand?” His curt tone breaks my heart.

“Yes, Daddy.” I swallow my tears.

I want to ask him if he’s going to reach out to Archer’s friend. Or if he has another way out. But I know better than to overwhelm him with questions. Especially after he asked me not to worry about anything.

“Good night.” He gestures toward the door.

“Good night.” I grip my own wrist and rush to the door, through the main hall, and up the stairs.

Guests stop me a couple of times to ask if I’m okay or if I want to do a shot with them. I nod and shake my head in response. I don’t stop until I’m safely up on the third floor. Once I’m alone, I take off running, aching to be alone in my room.

I open and close the door, then lean on it. Sole has already been up here to tidy up, get a fire going for me, and turn down the bed. I sob into my hand as I stare at the open French doors.

The worst is over.

Dad’s disappointment hurts like nothing else.

But at least now he knows the truth and can take care of it. I was an idiot for thinking that I could solve this problem for him.

Even though our financial problems are not Archer’s fault, I can’t help but hate him. I hate that he chose not to help me. He could make all this go away, but instead, he chooses to let Dad suffer the consequences, the humiliation of asking a stranger for money.I hate him.

“I hate you, Fitzwilliam Archer.” I fist my hands.

CHAPTER9

A FATHER'S BROKEN HEART

Archer