Page 144 of Forbidden Billionaires: Vol. 6

I moved my gun to my left hand, hoping it would stop shaking.

I tried to focus on his face. There were only a few new lines around his eyes and mouth. He didn’t deserve to look as good as he did. He was the one that should have died. Not my husband. I’d lost so many people. I wanted to make a trade. Hell could have my father. I just wanted Miller back. And my mom. And my uncle. I blinked fast so the tears wouldn’t fall. “You’ve been watching me this whole time.”

“Well, of course. I love you. I had to make sure you were safe.”

“Safe?” Did he really think I was an idiot? That I was still that easy to manipulate? “You tried to kill me!”

“You thinkItried to kill you?”

“The bomb was in my car.”

He nodded. “Ah, that explains your theatrics,” he said and waved at my gun, finally acknowledging it.

Theatrics? This wasn’t theatrics. I was going to kill him. Was he really that confident that I wouldn’t?

“Maybe we should retire into the sitting room so we can talk, princess.”

Princess?Seriously, how many times did I have to tell him not to call me the same thing he called Isabella? I wasn’t Isabella. I was nothing like her.Screw him.I didn’t pull the trigger like I’d planned. But I did the next best thing. I punched him square in the nose.

I heard a cracking noise.

Fuck.Did I just break my hand?I shook it out, but my knuckles ached. No one told me how much punching someone was going to hurt me. But the look on my dad’s face made the pain worth it.

“What on earth possessed you to do that?” my dad asked, grabbing at his nose. Blood spilled between his fingers. He pulled off his night cap and put it against the blood.

“I’m not your princess. And I don’t need to talk.” God, my hand hurt. I shook it out again.

“Well, now that we’re done with whatever that was, we can have an actual discussion. First let’s get some ice.” He turned around and started walking toward the kitchen.

He left me standing in the foyer with a throbbing hand and a gun pointed to the back of his head. Seriously, why wasn’t he scared of me? I was very scary right now. I could easily shoot him.

But I wasn’t as good of a shot with my left hand. And he was pretty far away.

I tried to shake out my hand again.Ow.Honestly, some ice sounded nice. I followed him even though I knew nothing good would come from a conversation. He’d try to weasel his way backinto my heart. He’d try to manipulate me. Control me. Just the way he always did.

But I was older now. It wasn’t as easy to play games with my heart. My father was a monster. And nothing he could say would change my mind. I followed him through the dining room and into the kitchen. He pushed through another set of doors to the staff kitchen.

I’d never seen my father step foot in the staff kitchen.

He opened up the freezer and pulled out two ice packs. Then he went to a drawer and found a couple of tea towels to wrap them in. “Here you are.”

I took the ice pack from him. The coolness instantly made my hand feel better. “Where is all your staff?”

“Oh, they’re in the Hamptons with Patricia.”

Why was his wife in the Hamptons? “Isn’t it a little late in the season?” I was pretty sure the Hamptons were a rich people summer thing. And it was well into fall. The crisp air outside made me feel claustrophobic. Threatening me with memories of Matt. I needed to get this over with and get as far away from this city as possible.

“She lives there full-time. And I live here full-time. I only ever really needed bodyguards anyway.”

“You’re divorced?” I wasn’t sure why I was asking him these questions. None of them mattered.

“Isabella was the only thing we had in common. Well, that and the business of course. So when Isabella passed…we drifted apart even more. Oh, you did know that your sister passed, yes? I’m not sure what you stayed up to date on.”

“Half-sister.” I thought that was a very important distinction to make.

“Right. Your half-sister has passed. Were you aware?”

I’d tried my best not to stay up to date on any of it. My father’s words had twisted around my heart, making me believe everyone was better off without me. And I did believe it. I had to. But there were creeping thoughts. Like how happy could James be if he’d married Isabella? He hated her. We all hated her. I pushed the thought aside. “Yes, I knew she was dead.”