The High Price Of Father's Freedom

as two-dimensional as possible. She wasn't here for the conversation. She was here because the invitation had promised an ope

ray. A far cry from the bespoke suits she'd catalogued in her old life as an assistant at Sotheby's, before her father's name became a headline and her career became collateral damage. No

ng the shrimp,

ven look at her. Abbey checked her phone. Twenty minutes. She just needed to stay twenty more

? Abbe

ce. It was a guy from her Torts class, someone whose name she had int

she

said, his eyes scanning her outfit with a litt

Abbey said, shifting her weight. "

, hol

room, a glass of amber liquid in one hand and an expression of supreme confidence on his

ep up her neck, a physical rash of embarrassment. "I knew I'

ocking her exit. He smelled of

she said, her

. "Ditch that white wine. It smells like vine

said, keeping her hands cl

ding her personal space. He reached out, his fingers brushing her el

Abbey said. She

g forward again. "You're playing hard to get

e edge of the carpet. She stumbled, her back colliding hard with a hea

he chatter. Silence rip

into a scowl. Abbey's heart hammered against her ribs. She mu

. She looked past the guard's broad shoulder, i

ip a beat; it seized, a painful, physica

man holding a tumbler of whiskey. He wasn't talking

d Woo

scent of rain and fresh espresso-Paris, seven years ago. She saw the way the sunlight used to hit his hair on th

knew. That Armond had been "Armond Chevalier,

were dark, bottomless pits that locked onto hers with terrifying precision. There was no surpris

. His lips curled slightly, not in a smil

room spun. The noise of the party

g for her again. "You look li

lent, purely instinctual. Champagne sloshed ove

Miles e

er fight-or-flight response had slammed the l

The cold New York wind hit her face like a slap, shocking her lungs into working again. She scra

adly she couldn't unzip her purse. She needed a cigarette. She didn't smoke anymore-she cou

t crushed the filter between her fingers, grounding her

me. H

text from Miles: You okay? I saw

ding the rest. She flagged down a

sped as she climbed in

ors of the venue opened. Two men in black suits stepped out, scanning th

lids offered no safety. All she could see was Armond's face. That look. It wasn't th

t, her roommate Sophie was on the couch,

Sophie asked, he

ied. Her voice sounded

ng water onto her face, trying to scrub away the feeling of Armond's gaze. She looked at h

ing her face with a rough towel. Sophie had

phie said. "Real lif

raphic: WOODWARD GROUP:

alking out of a courthouse, surrounded by microphone

h is in, like, three weeks-he loses voting control," Sophie narrated, pe

at the bottom scrolled past her father's nam

just need a wife. He needed levera