Page 26 of His Prize

“Why?”

“Because you can’t see who I am or who’s helping me with this.”

I paused. “Why not?”

“That’s how I operate.”

“Has Israel ever seen you?”

“No, ma’am.”

I furrowed my brow. “That seems a bit—”

“You wanted my help, so I’m here. I’ve gone against protocol and everything that keeps my team and me safe to come to help you out of your blunder. Now, either sit up and close your eyes so we can fix this mess or lay there and let Israel question you about why you’ve got blood on an apron you shouldn’t be wearing in the first place.”

“You know, you’re very lucky I’m not feeling well right now.” I snickered.

“If you need help sitting up, let me know.”

And just to prove a point, I sat myself up without her help, even though the pain was so blinding I wanted to cry out in horror until it dragged me under.

9

Israel

“Son, we need to talk.”

A shiver ran down my spine. “I figured you didn’t call me over here for lunch simply to see how I am.”

Dad pinned me with his stare. “Why do you keep screwing up every opportunity I put before you?”

I leaned back against the plush chair. “I didn’t screw up my wedding. That was null and void because of an issue that was out of our hands.”

He pointed at me with his fork. “That’s your issue, Israel. You want to blame your troubles on other people.”

“Then, why don’t you enlighten me and let me know how I should’ve fixed the situation with Bonnie. Because if memory serves me correctly, you also saw her that day. And you thought she was Brianna, too.”

His eyes darkened. “I’d watch your words at this lunch table, son.”

I shrugged. “Just wanting to make sure we work with all the facts.”

“Israel, we can’t trust the enemy family any longer. That girl you're living with has been too wily and too uncontrollable lately. Not to mention, this position she’s stepped into. You’re sleeping with the enemy, son. Literally. And I won’t stand for it.”

“Then, I suppose it’s a good thing you’re sitting.”

“Israel!”

I slowly stood. “Why don’t you go ahead and stop beating around the bush. Just tell me why you invited me over here for lunch, Dad.”

He stood with me. “I never ask you for anything, correct?”

“Mmm, debatable.”

He glared at me. “Name the last time I asked something of you that didn’t pertain to this messy situation you’ve found yourself in.”

“Thatwe’vefound ourselves in.”

He waved his hand in the air. “Answer me. Now.”

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