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A smile quirks up the side of my lips at just the thought of her.

“Why are you here, Trey?” Father’s bored voice booms at my back.

I fight the urge to sit up straighter and stand as a sign of respect, which was drilled into me since I could walk.

“Here to reconsider our terms we discussed so you don’t have to give up your lavish lifestyle?” Mom pipes up. “I knew just thethoughtof living on a regular wage would set you straight.”

“I have a proposition for you two,” I mumble around another cookie. Mom's eyes narrow and I roll mine. “The H.R. 13 bill that's about to roll through the House and possibly the Senate, what do you know about it?”

Their eyes meet briefly in silent conversation.

“Enough. What about it?” Dad asks cautiously.

“It's wrong on too many levels to count, that’s what. I want to stop it from passing.”

Mom's high-pitched, obnoxious laugh grates on my already tense nerves. I clench my jaw to keep from saying something I'll regret. Whether I like it or not, I need their help.

“It makes sense, son,” Dad says. He unbuttons his suit jacket and folds into the chair opposite of me. “The poor, they don't understand what goes into running the government or who would be best at the job. This is in their best interest, allowing the burden to fall on our shoulders instead of theirs. We're helping them, not hurting.”

The muscles of my jaw twitch as I work it back and forth. They actually believe that load of shit.

“It's their constitutional right to vote, for everyone to vote.”

Mom waves a dismissive hand. “That old document, is it even relevant anymore?”

Mouth gaping, I stare at my delusional mother. She must be high on prescription drugs or something. I hope that’s the reason and not that she believes the Constitution that our country was founded on is just an old worthless document.

“Yes, it's relevant.” I say each word slow to make sure she understands, then glance to Dad. “It's wrong to deny an American citizen the right to vote.”

“Felons can't. How is this different?”

Holy fuck, am I glad I left my gun at home.

“Now you're just trying to piss me off,” I grit out, glaring at him. His smirk—my smirk—tells me I hit the nail on the head. “Can you stop it?”

“Depends,” Mom chirps. “What are you willing to offer in exchange?”

“What you want,” I say with as much venom as I can muster. “After this presidential term, I'll jump back into politics. I'll….” I swallow and lean forward to grip the glass of water from the silver tray. After a quick sip, I rest both elbows on my knees, gripping the slick glass between both hands. “I'll leave the secret service.”

Mom laughs and looks to Dad before turning back to me. “You think you can just waltz back onto the circuit and expect to go anywhere? You're a no one in our circles nowadays.”

I nod, knowing that would come up. That’s why Jessica was my first stop, to make sure she was on board for her role in my life.

“I've discussed a plan with Jessica Hawthorne.” I pause, flicking my gaze between the two.

Mom leans forward, interest piqued. “What kind of plan?”

Shit, this is the part I'm looking forward to the least. I fight the urge to pace the room. There’s no room for showing weakness here.

“I'll make the rounds at various fundraisers and events with Jessica, as a couple.” I swallow back the bile rising in my throat. “A fake couple, mind you. She's well aware this is us using each other. There is no future for us together except politically. Jessica will reintroduce me to the right people to get my name back in the game, and I'll allow her to use our family name as backing when needed. It's a win-win for both of us.”

The snakelike smile Mom gives in return drops a weight of dread in my stomach. I'm playing with fire while doused in gasoline here, but this is my only shot at helping Randi. At keeping her in DC. I have to take it.

“What’s made you such the bleeding heart as of late?” Mother asks, her conniving smile growing.

“I'm no bleeding heart, you know that, but I also see how wrong this bill is for many Americans. I can't let it pass without doing whatever it takes to make it stop.”

“Interesting. And it has nothing to do with the trash that's currently residing in One Observatory Circle?”