“Exactly!” He was skewering his wife and my mother at the same time, with the same look. “She’s a part of this family from now on. I will hear nothing against this, do you both understand?”

I was confused. Not about Quinn, but my mom. Chrissy hadn’t been trying to talk me into leaving. She had stayed. She was just as locked in with Seraphina, Matt, and Cyclone as I was. But I still saw that guilt. That was there for a reason.

A hand came to my back. Kash. He slid it up to my nape. “Security will have to be tight.”

Some of the fight left Peter, and he dipped his head in an abrupt nod. He raked a hand through his hair, rubbing it briskly over his face, but his other hand was still in a fist. “Yes. We’ll put together a protocol.” He said to me, “I hope you’re okay with this, but you are my daughter. You have always been my daughter, and it’s time everyone realized how your place is here with us and should’ve always been.” He glowered at Victoria once more, but she had faded from my side, starting to turn so she was hidden behind her friends.

He stalked off after that. Quinn went after him.

My mom faltered, watching me, and I shook my head. I didn’t want to hear whatever she was going to say. My mom always meant well, but maybe she wasn’t always the right person to listen to.

Kash then clipped out, “What did she say to you?”

FIFTY-ONE

I was a mess.

The ten days had gone by so fast. So much happened when everyone was getting ready for the party. It was a big to-do. My alerts had been going nuts from people posting about it. Security was going to be insane. They had a helicopter going over the property. I was trying not to focus on all the speculation or how livid Martha had been when Peter told her his plan. He hadn’t cared. He said it was happening and she needed to adjust her plan, so she did. She was proficient, if anyone needed one word to describe her.

The Bonham poisoning affair/pending divorce scandal was nipped in the bud and, instead, glowing stories came out about me. They talked about things I had forgotten had happened, like awards I won in elementary school or how I applied for and won so many Phoenix Tech scholarships when it wasn’t known I was his daughter. I had earned those on my own, and the competition for them had been stiff.

They talked about my photographic memory, the graduate program I was attending, and how even that was prestigious. The wow factor was in full effect. All these people coming to the party were now coming not only because they were nosey a-holes who wanted to see the ins and outs of Peter Francis’s family but also because they were curious about me.

Another person being buzzed about in the papers: Kash’s grandfather. The financial papers reported he was in the United States and traveling to our area.

Camille Story wasn’t the only blog speculating about whether Calhoun Bastian would make a surprise appearance at the party, even though he wasn’t invited, and they were reporting that Kash had brought an order of protection against him. That had been news to me, and since Kash had closed up regarding everything except having sex with me, I hadn’t brought it up.

When I say “closed up,” that wasn’t an exaggeration.

He didn’t talk. Literally.

He was silent. He was tense. And he was affecting everyone.

The tension had been building over the last month, but it was on steroids now. Kash was readying for a fight, and it seemed he thought he was the only one going to handle it. I tried to ask about his grandfather, but he’d just pick me up or kiss me or, well, basically he’d carry me to bed, and what girl could say no to that? One touch and I was a melting puddle for him. The tingles zapped me just by a look from him. But I knew he was worried. There were nights when I woke to find him sitting in the living room, in his office, at his kitchen table, alone and in the dark. Sometimes a glass of bourbon was set in front of him. Other times, it was just him and the darkness.

I’d either fold myself onto his lap or he’d stand and pick me up, taking me back to bed. My questions were hushed by his mouth, and I was exhausted every morning, when I would wake later—much later. We were averaging three hours of sleep per night because of that, and because of my own nerves about myself, knowing that Matt’s uppity friends would be coming to the party, Seraphina’s bully friends, too, and some of Cyclone’s. Quinn just seemed to get frostier and frostier toward me, and my mother hadn’t been much better. I was ready to explode.