Page 2 of Beautifully Broken Control

My father sat with floor-to-ceiling windows behind him, the cityscape as his backdrop, and grinned at the sight of me. “Little Princess, what are you doing here?”

The nickname almost brought me to my knees. He’d read me the book as a little girl. We’d even taken a trip to India because of it, I’d been so enamored with the tale. And like everything else in my life that I’d ever wanted, he’d given it to me. He’d always been a good father. Even when we didn’t understand each other, I always knew he loved me.

I couldn’t reconcile the two images in my mind. The father who read me my favorite stories before bed, and the man who had stolen over a billion dollars from unsuspecting investors. None of the jumbled discord dancing in my head made sense.

Concern flashed in my dad’s expression. “What’s wrong?” He rose.

I shook my head, lowering myself into a chair opposite his desk. “Nothing, I—” My gaze flicked down to the microphone I knew lay taped between my breasts. I couldn’t do this. My hand reached up, seemingly of its own accord, twisting the fabric of my blouse, muffling the sounds in the room.

I met my father’s gaze. “Actually, there is something.”

Dad lowered himself into his leather desk chair. “Lay it on me.”

My whole body seemed to shake as I watched the man who had banished the monsters hiding under my bed. “Do you steal money from your clients?” The words tripped out of my mouth of their own accord, boldly spilling into the space between us.

My father’s mouth opened and closed like a fish trying to escape a hook. “What are you talking about? Of course, not. Why would you think such a thing?” My heart cracked as he rubbed the spot behind his left ear. It was his tell. My brother always thought I was bullshitting, but from the time when I was ten and asked for a puppy for Christmas, I’d known this was his giveaway. He’d looked me dead in the eyes while rubbing that spot and said I wasn’t old enough for a dog of my own yet. That bundle of brown and white fur Christmas morning had told me otherwise. Every time he lied to Mom about eating a salad at the club, he’d rub that same spot, and I’d know he’d had the steak.

I gripped my blouse tighter, tears welling in my eyes. “Please, don’t lie to me.”

A coldness that I’d never seen before filled his eyes. “Investing is a complicated business, Kennedy. I’ve built a good life for our family. You should be grateful for that.”

“I don’t want a life that was stolen from other people.” My voice shook as I spoke.

My father scoffed. “Oh, really? And you’d be just fine in a public school? No car or fancy dance lessons?”

My hand trembled as I tried to keep my hold on the fabric surrounding the microphone. “I could make it work.”

“Bullshit!” His hand banged on the desk, startling me into releasing my hold on the mic. I didn’t move to cover it up again. “I have slaved for this company. For this family. The least you could do is show me a little respect.”

“So, you did it?” I could barely get the words out, the truth of them burning my vocal cords.

“Iborrowedsome money from clients. There’s a difference.”

I wondered if my father believed the words he said; if they were lies he told himself every day. “So, you’re going to pay everything back?”

“Of course.” He rubbed that same spot behind his ear. He’d never pay a dime back. His gaze turned shrewd. “You never said how these questions came about.”

My blood heated. His selfishness, that unquenchable thirst for more, was going to destroy our family and so many others. I swallowed down the rage thrumming through me, did my best to not let it shine through in my voice. “I saw an email I shouldn’t have.” It was what Agent Carnes had told me to say, and it wasn’t as if my father guarded his computer or phone. I’d used both in the past week.

My father’s voice turned gentle, but the tone was a lie, just like the rest of our lives. “I promise you, Little Princess, this is nothing for you to be worried about. I’ve got everything under control.”

I forced the tension in my face to ease, tried to give him a small smile. “I’m so glad. I just wanted to make sure.”

Dad gave me his own forced smile. “Of course. You know you can come to me with anything.”

He rose and I followed suit. As he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me to him, I was struck by the audacity of the situation. I wanted nothing more than comfort and security from the man who had ripped all my comfort and security away. Because the FBI had told me the reality of the situation. At the rate the hedge fund was currently earning, it would take my father over a century to pay back everything he’d stolen. And as soon as the truth came out, it would be a physical impossibility.

* * *

I letmy fingers sift through my dog’s silky fur. Tried to focus on my breathing, and the cool night air as I stared out my open window. None of it worked. A knock sounded on my bedroom door, and I quickly swiped at the wetness under my eyes. “Come in.”

A face as familiar as my own appeared in the opening. My brother stepped through, closing the door behind him. “Twinkle Toes.”

I forced a small smile. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

Preston crossed to me, lowering himself onto the opposite end of the window seat so that he faced me head-on. My chest spasmed, anxiety drumming a quick rhythm against my ribs. Ever since I’d walked out of my father’s office, gotten in my car, and drove away, it was as if I were waiting for a nuclear bomb to detonate. Waiting to watch the radioactive material infect people far and wide. And clinging to hope that amidst all the destruction, my brother would be safe.

He gave my dog, Chuck, a little pat, and Chuck let out a snore. “Gotta take a break from city life every now and then. And I wanted to make sure you and Mom weren’t at each other’s throats with this gala next weekend.”

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