Page 70 of Broken Princess

“That’s impossible.”

“No, it’s not. You broke the rules and told both of us about the Order when we were young. Chloe could’ve spent years looking into it after that, and you remember what she was like when she decided she wanted something.”

He sat down again, jaw set. “You have proof Q hurt her?” he asked curtly.

“Yes.”

He scrubbed a hand over his chin. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “Chloe….”

“I’m sorry. I know you weren’t expecting that, but it’s true. Q set her up.”

“Who is he?” he asked, eyes darkening. “Just tell me.”

“It’s not a ‘he’. It’s a ‘she’.”

“Who the fuck is she, then?”

“It’s Mom.”

He stood up again. A vein was visibly throbbing in his neck. “So that’s what this is? Some sort of sick fucking joke?”

“No. Listen to me. It’s Mom. She’s Q.”

Silence reigned in the study for the next two minutes.

“You’re serious? It’s Liz?” Dad finally said.

“Yes. I have irrefutable proof.”

“So she hurt Chloe.” His eyes were turning flat and deadly as the initial shock wore off and anger began to surge through him like electricity. I knew exactly how it felt, because I felt it too.

“She hurt Willow, too,” I said. “That’s why I’m here.”

“Christ. I should’ve known,” he muttered. “Her family and the way they forced our marriage on us….”

He trailed off, and I reached over and patted his arm. “Don’t blame yourself. She hid it really well.”

He went silent again for a long time. I’d never seen him look so tired before. “Tell me everything,” he finally said in a low voice.

I told him the story from the beginning—the way Willow and I initially suspected him, the way I managed to sneakily procure Q’s saliva to prove that theory, the DNA test which proved it was actually a female relative of mine, Rowan’s personal research at the NSA, the real Lilith Hall, and the sordid auction night.

“I know one of your high council duties is to buy babies from women who don’t want them,” I said partway through. “Willow and I figured that out too. What exactly do you do with them?”

“We assist with the pregnancy and birth, along with the contractual side of things, and then we leave the children at the Order Hall for Q and the shadow council to collect,” Dad muttered, head in his hands.

I leaned forward, forehead creasing. “But what exactly do you think happens to the babies? What were you told?”

“There are a lot of wealthy people who want to bypass the adoption process, so the babies are sold to them. I’m well aware that it’s highly illegal, but the Order needs to make money somehow, and it’s an effective method.”

I shook my head. “You’ve been lied to all along,” I said. “When I went to Lilith Hall, I saw a lot of weird, fucked up shit. I think the babies are raised there to be slaves. Then they’re auctioned off the same way Mom auctioned Willow off.”

“No…”

“Yes, Dad. That’s what you’ve really been doing in all of your decades of service to the Order. Participating in human trafficking. I’m sure Q designed it that way—if she goes down for it, then so does everyone else for being complicit in her schemes.”

“Fuck,” he muttered, nostrils flaring. I could see the waves of anger rising inside him again, sheer fury with a cold, brittle edge to it. He slammed a fist into his desk. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Calm down. Mom might be here somewhere, and we can’t let her know that we know anything just yet.”