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“Looks like Max is ready for bed,” Anja said, and I followed her gaze, watching as Max yawned, half a cookie in one fist. “I should probably get him home.”

“Stefan’s driver can take you,” Tori offered.

“Good idea,” I said, already pulling out my phone.

Tori and I helped Anja gather up Max and his bags full of toys and get them in the car before we headed back upstairs together. Tori was practically glowing from the playdate she’d had with her brother, and though I was happy for her, I couldn’t help being distracted by all the information that Anja had given me tonight.

While Tori showered—and I could hear her singing happily in the bathroom—I sat on the edge of the bed, undressing and thinking about what Anja had said. Although I wasn’t at all surprised to have confirmation that my father had attempted to split me and Tori apart, it didn’t stop me from being furious.

Did he really believe that Tori was such a threat to his business that she needed to be removed from the equation? The irony was that he was right to worry—but the real threat was actually me.

Even though the last thing I wanted to do was speak to my father, and it was probably a lost cause anyway, I decided to confront him about all of this soon. After all, there might be other reasons Anja was a key player in his schemes. It couldn’t hurt to try digging deeper.

Undressed, I leaned back against the headboard, waiting for Tori to come out of the shower. My body tightened with the anticipation of being with her—holding her, kissing her, fucking her—I never tired of it. I didn’t think I ever would.

And there was one good thing that had come out of Anja’s reappearance. For the first time since she had disappeared, I finally had closure to our relationship. No more wondering where she was, or whether she was safe or drugged up in some foreign brothel. She was one more model who no longer had to sell herself like that to please my father. To fill his pockets.

I wouldn’t rest until all the other women working for KZM were free, too.

Tori

Chapter 22

“Mitchell Lindsey’s office,” a brisk female voice said.

I took a deep breath, my mouth suddenly bone dry despite the fact that I’d practiced for this conversation over and over again in my head.

“This is Victoria Lindsey,” I said. “The senator’s daughter. May I speak with my father, please?”

“He’s en route to the airport in DC at the moment,” she said politely, giving no indication of whether I’d been blacklisted from his contacts or not.

So he was still out of town. “Flying into Springfield?” I asked. The flight usually took about three hours, so I figured I could try him again after my first class let out today.

“Chicago, actually,” she said. “He’ll be at the office there for a few days before he heads home.”

“Got it,” I said, my mood lifting instantly. His schedule couldn’t have been more convenient for me and Anja. “I’ll call him back this afternoon then. Thanks for your help.”

“Actually, I can try to patch you through to his cell if you like?” she suggested.

Guess I hadn’t made the blacklist after all. “That’d be great,” I told her.

The line started to ring and I tapped my fingers on the kitchen counter in time with the quickening of my pulse, wondering if he’d even pick up or purposely leave me hanging so I’d be forced to choke out an awkward voicemail.

I couldn’t help feeling anxious. We’d been estranged for nearly two months, and hadn’t spoken a word to each other since the day I’d found out he was involved in KZM’s trafficking coverup. This was the first time I’d be hearing his voice since then. And since the recent revelations of his infidelity. His lying. The way he’d treated his bed partners.

I took another long drink of coffee to fortify myself, just about to hang up, when—

“Tori? What is it?” he asked in his usual gruff way. “I’m about to get on a plane.”

At first I froze, unable to form the words. My anger about Max and Anja made it hard not to start flinging accusations or demanding he take action to correct his past wrongs.

“Tori?” my dad barked. “First class is boarding.”

“I…need to talk to you,” I finally managed, my voice sounding extremely formal.

“Obviously. Well, make it fast,” he demanded. “I assume you’ve finally come to your senses.”

I narrowed my eyes. It was obvious he thought this was an apology call. How dare he speak to me this way, after all he’d done. But of course, he didn’t know what I knew. He thought I was still the same naïve, sweet, innocent daughter he’d always known. Calling to beg his forgiveness for my behavior on the day I’d told him he wasn’t my father anymore.