Page 66 of Pretty Little Threats

“Yes,” I confess. His fingers dig into my skin. “Dad, you’re hurting me.”

Though he releases my chin, that’s hardly a relief. The back of his hand connects with my cheek, and this time, it’s impossible to swallow my whimper as pain lances through me. But that’s the only sound I make. I bite the inside of my mouth hard enough to draw blood, the copper tang washing over my tongue and grounding me.

I knew he’d be mad. I expected this anger, but the slap? Dad has never hit me. Never raised a hand. Hurt curdles inside my stomach. Lifting my hand, I touch my cheek. The skin is hot and angry, and I’m confused more than anything.

The slap was so easy for him. Almost like it was something he’s done before. I look up at him, but Dad has already turned away. I’m safe from his anger for now.

“I have a plan.” Though my voice only has the slightest shake, even that little bit is enough to make me hate myself. Millers aren’t weak. How many times has he told me that?

“You have a plan,” Dad parrots, scoffing. “Tell me, Rosalynn, what’s your plan? Spread your legs and hope he’ll give you his shares?”

That wasn’t exactly my plan, but with the way I respond to Dare, the way I desire him, Dad’s question slams into me.You really are stupid, aren’t you?

I shake off the unwelcome voice. “No. I have a way in, Dad. We can use this marriage to our advantage.”

Dad pauses in front of me. “How?”

My response comes out of me in a rush. “I’m inside now. I can get to the business, find proof aboutthose predatory loans or some type of leverage. Just give me time. We can find something to push him out.”

Dad studies me. “Tell me you’re not this naive.”

“Dad.”

His hand slices through the air, close enough to my face that I rear back, expecting another hit. That only makes his eyes flash with disappointment. “Did you sign a prenup?”

I swallow and clasp my hands in my lap, palms so sweaty, it’s disgusting. “Yes. It’s... complicated to break.”

Dad’s frown deepens. There’s no adequate way to describe the fury that flashes over his face, but the reaction is a spike of fear in my heart. He grabs my arm and yanks me out of the chair. As my ankle wobbles, I bite my cheek to keep from protesting, too afraid he’ll hit me again.

“What did you do, Rosalynn?” Spittle hits my face.

“We can find a way to get out of it.” My voice is pleading, pathetic.

Dad’s grip turns bruising. “You lied to me,” he hisses.

My stomach churns. Breaking his trust is the main thing I was worried about. He has to know I’m still loyal. He has to know that I’d never betray my family. He has to know I’m still a Miller, no matter what Dare says, because if he doesn’t trust me, he won’t help me find a way out of this marriage. I’ll be on my own.

And I don’t want to be alone or lose my family.

“Dad, please,” I whisper, hoping the softness of my voice will get to him. “I will find what we need. We’ll take him down. I promise.”

His hazel eyes, so similar to my own, slide over my face, jaw clicking as he wrestles with whatever he’s thinking. “I want a copy of that prenup.”

“We don’t have to worry about that?—”

Dad squeezes my arm even harder.

I fall silent.

“You’ve disappointed me yet again, Rosalynn.”

Tears burn in my eyes, and the air in my throat chokes me. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry won’t fix the problem you created.”

I don’t bother telling him about Eric or that I didn’t really have a choice. He wouldn’t believe me, anyway.

“Tell me how to fix it,” I say, desperate to prove myself to him. “I’ll do anything.”

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