Page 53 of Cinderella and the Daddy

“The one who allowed me to take you without a single word? The brother who has treated you like a problem to be solved?”

I don’t like him. Drew is a piece of shit.

"Do you think I want revenge?"

I consider the question, weighing what I know about her character against the pragmatic realities of my business. Cindy is many things, but vindictive isn't one of them. She tolerated him for fifteen years. She could have walked away a long time ago.

"No," I say finally. "I don't think you give a damn about revenge."

"You're right. I don't. That gives him the power. I don’t care about Drew."

"So you're going to kill him." It's not a question.

"I'm going to eliminate a threat to you."

"If you kill him," she says, her voice deadly quiet, "I walk."

"Why?" I demand. "Why would you care what happens to a man who threw you under the bus the second things got complicated?"

"Because killing him won't solve anything. It'll just create new problems." She crosses her arms, and I can see her mind working, analyzing angles I haven't considered. "If there's a contract on Drew, that means someone else is pulling the strings. Someone who wants you to take this job for reasons that have nothing to do with him."

She's right, of course. The contract itself is suspect. Someone wants to manipulate me. I’m not stupid.

“I don’t like him,” I say. “I don’t like the way he treated you.”

"He's bait." Her voice carries absolute conviction. "And you're too smart to take it."

“I wouldn’t kill him for the contract. I would kill him for you.”

“No. Luka. Promise me. Promise me you'll take him alive if you can."

"If I can." The words taste like compromise in my mouth, foreign and uncomfortable. In my world, "if I can" is the difference between a clean operation and unnecessary complications. But looking at her now, seeing the way she's willing to fight for principles even when they might get her killed, I find myself nodding.

"If I can," I repeat.

Relief flickers across her features, replaced by concern. "You’re leaving.”

I sigh. “I have a meeting.”

“With Drew?”

“Someone who has promised to bring Drew to me.”

“Luka…”

“To talk.”

She rolls her eyes. “Talk.”

“Cindy, you don’t know this world. I am going to do what I can to keep you alive.”

“Will you tell me how you know Charles? Drew?”

I shouldn’t.

I've been dreading this moment, knowing eventually she'd piece together the connections that brought her to me. Cindy is too smart to accept coincidences and too observant to miss the patterns that tie her past to my present.

I pour myself three fingers of vodka from the bottle on my nightstand, buying time while I decide how much truth I can afford to give her. The alcohol burns, but it's nothing compared to the fire building in my chest.