Page 8 of Pretty Little Threats

Or maybe he’s still grieving, and I make it harder by constantly reminding him of his late wife.

It takes two breaths to lock it all away, just like he taught me. The ache in my chest subsides, and another breath chases away any lingering sadness that surfaced. There’s no room for weakness at the top.

The driver turns right, heading away from the financial district, where the gala is being held. I frown. “Where are we going?”

“Picking up a guest,” Dad says.

I nod, pretending that the surprise doesn’t bother me. I hoped we’d have some time alone, but JD Miller & Co always comes first. “Who are we wooing tonight?”

Reaching for a tumbler and the decanter of scotch, he pours himself a drink. “Eric Vanderbelt.”

I barely manage to suppress a groan. Eric “the creep” Vanderbelt is a prick who thinks he’s hot shit. Then there’s the whole incident of him trying to force himself on me. The world I live in is full of assholes, but Eric is a unique breed of douche.

There’s one reason Dad would want to talk to Eric.

“Vista Holdings?”

Dad sips his scotch. “Clever girl,” he praises. “Through his various holdings, Eric owns twenty percent of Vista’sstock. He says he has Clarkson, Mendel, and York in hand.”

The last year’s worth of obsessing over everything related to Dare finally comes in handy.

“And with our five percent, we’d have forty percent ownership,” I conclude. It’s the only reason Dad would even bother with someone like Eric. Once we wrangle ownership of Dare’s company, we can put an end to his predatory lending practices and his cruel reign. The beast’s castle will burn once all the pieces come together, and some vicious part of me wants to be the one holding the match.

My hate for Dare should probably worry me. The one rule I’ve always sworn by is to never intentionally hurt anyone. I know all too well the pain of someone else’s evil actions. I refuse to be responsible for ruining someone’s life.

Though, maybe, rules are meant to be broken...sometimes. Dare goes against everything I stand for. He’s one of the vile people who profits off his customers’ misfortunes. I won’t feel bad for wanting to destroy him.

Besides, it’s not like I’m planning to kill him. He’s the murderer.

Dad takes a drink and grins. “We almost have him, Rosie.”

The nickname warms my chest. He’s been so stressed out lately. Always worried about Dare or the hundreds of other fires he has to put out as chair of the board. I see my dad all the time, but I’ve missed small moments like this more than he’ll ever know.

“Between Dare and his sisters, they still have a majority. We’d have to find some type of leverage to wrangle one of his sisters to our side,” I say. Seeing as no one knows where they are, that feat will be nearly impossible. There arerumors that Dare killed them, but based on his reaction earlier, that’s clearly a lie. Dare cares for his sisters, which means they’re a viable weakness. But since we have nothing on them, all I’m left with is the bakery.

I clear my throat. Now is as good a time as any to bring up what I’ve learned. “Speaking of, I found something we can try and use against Darian.” I grab the champagne and a flute, carefully pouring myself a glass and being mindful not to spill as the car rolls over bumps in the road.

“And how did you discover this weakness?” There’s a hint of warning in his tone. Dad doesn’t like being lied to.

“I hired a private investigator.” I lean back against the seat and watch his reaction.

A ripple of annoyance flashes over his face. “When?”

“Last year.”

Dad scowls at me. “Millers never keep secrets from one another, Rosalynn.”

That’s what he always tells me. In this ugly corporate world, all we have is our trust.

A sigh slips past my lips. “You didn’t tell me Eric was riding with us to the gala.”

Isn’t that sort of surprise a secret in its own way?

He arches an eyebrow. “That’s completely different and you’re pouting.”

Stifling my retort, I keep my expression relaxed and loosely grip my flute. The more I react, the more I protest, the more closed off Dad becomes and the closer I am to losing him too.

I rarely see Mom’s family, and when I do, they treat me like an outsider. Dad’s brother isn’t a kind man, and my cousins... Dad is the only real family I have.

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