Page 71 of The Master

Those expensively manicured nails tapped on the wooden arm of the chair. “You should have known better, Nathanial. I won’t let you be happy. I can destroy you with minimal effort.”

“Hate to tell you, but threatening letters slipped under my door aren’t going to keep Nate and me apart.” I smiled at her, certain she could see me out of the corner of her eye.

“We’ll see about that,” she snapped.

I kept pushing. “What are you going to do next? Send someone else to break into my apartment again?”

She finally looked at me, eyes flashing. “Next time, I’ll make sure you’re inside. I can find someone who would offer a discount if he got a go at you.”

“Isti–”

I squeezed Nate’s hand. This was what we wanted. Get her off-balance so she’d be careless with what she said.

“You have no idea what I can do to you.” Two spots of color showed high on her cheeks. “I’ll ruin you. I’ll pay a dozen men to say that you had sex with them, then blackmailed them. Drugs, prostitution, extortion…it won’t take much. People may like to think they want Cinderella stories, but all they really want is someone to look down on.”

“I know exactly who you are and what you think you can do,” I said mildly. “Nate told me what you did to him.”

“And if my father’s bastard hadn’t rescued him, Nathanial would still be on the streets.” She gave me a disgusted look. “Finley won’t rescue you, though. You aren’t histype. Not like Nathanial.”

I glanced at Nate, and he nodded, and for the hundredth time, I was glad I hadn’t written my father’s name in my journal, instead referring to him as F.

“You’re right,” I said, putting as much steel in the words as I could. “I’m not Finley’s type. I’m his daughter.”

Isti’s face flushed as she stared at me. She lifted her chin. “No. That’s impossible. He’s…gay.”

If I hadn’t already loathed her, the way she saidgaywould’ve done it. “So’s my mom. There’s this thing called IVF that…”

“No.” Isti stood, her hands shaking with what I assumed was anger. “You can’t be. He doesn’t have any children.”

“He didn’t know about me until recently.” I got to my feet, uncomfortable sitting while she stood. “But you don’t need to worry. I don’t plan on claiming relation to you.”

“Out.” She took a step toward me. “Get out of my house!”

I thought that response was more than a little overly dramatic, but we had what we came for, which meant there was no point in sticking around.

“Gladly.”

She slammed the door behind us, but Nate and I didn’t even glance back. When we got to the car, he drove down the street until we were out of sight of her house and then pulled over. We both took out our phones and double-checked the audio files we’d just recorded. I handed mine to Nate, and he sent both files to Jailene. If she needed the originals, we’d get those to her, but for the moment, she had what she needed to prove that Isti had been behind the letter and the break-in.

Isti’d had it backward. She was the one who should’ve been worried about what Nate and I could do to her.

Forty-Seven

Nate

Isti’s confessionwas only part of the plan for today. Ashlee hadn’t been thrilled when I’d told her what I wanted to add on to her list, but she’d agreed that it was something that needed to be done. I could’ve done it alone, but I wanted her support. We were in this together, and I wanted her to see that I needed her as much as she needed me, if not more.

Probably more.

Definitely more.

As I parked the car, my phone went off with Jailene’s tone. I read the text out loud so Ashlee could hear it too. “You have good timing. I’m talking to a friend of mine at the police department, and apparently, you two aren’t the only ones Isti has been threatening, though there’s never been enough evidence to prove that it’s her. It seems anytime one of her exes gets serious about anyone, ‘accidents’ happen. Burglaries. Muggings. Calls to ICE and the IRS. That sort of thing. Her confession is exactly what they needed to start connecting the dots legally. The ADA is going to file for an arrest warrant. Isti should be in custody as soon as the warrant’s signed. Good work.”

Ashlee let out a breath. “I thought for sure she would be mad that we didn’t go to the cops.”

“Me too,” I admitted. “Jailene can be more than a little intimidating.”

“I haven’t had much interaction with her,” Ashlee said, “but I’ll take your word for it.”

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