Page 25 of His Enemy's Daughter
“I’m not interested in whatever scheme—”
“Your father doesn’t know about your late-night excursions yet.” Her interruption is casual, deadly. “The tracking data, the credit card receipts from strange locations, the way you’ve been accessing files you shouldn’t have clearance for. I’ve been collecting evidence, waiting for the right moment.”
My blood runs cold. “You’ve been spying on me.”
“I’ve been protecting my interests.” She leans forward. “See, Regina, I’ve always known you were smarter than you pretended. That perfect daughter act is very convincing, but I recognized a fellow performer when I saw one. The question was what you were performing for.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Please.” She waves away my protest. “I know you’ve been gathering intelligence on your father. I don’t know why, and frankly, I don’t care. What I care about is that you’re going to help me with my own situation, or I tell Sabino everything.”
“What situation?” The words taste like defeat.
“I’ve been embezzling.” She states it like discussing the weather. “For three years now, skimming from his eastern operations, hiding it in offshore accounts. I’ve been very careful, but your father’s recent financial audit means my activities might be discovered.”
“You’re stealing from him.” I can’t keep the shock from my voice. “Do you have any idea what he’ll do if he finds out?”
“The same thing he’ll do when he discovers his precious daughter has been meeting with his enemies.” Her smile is vicious. “So you’re going to help me hide my tracks. Use that impressive hacking ability to make the numbers add up. And in exchange, I’ll keep your secrets.”
“This is blackmail.”
“This is survival.” She stands, moving around the desk with predatory grace. “We’re both trapped in this house, Regina. We’re both playing roles for a man who sees us as property. The difference is I’ve been smart enough to plan for my escape. Now you’re going to help me complete it.”
My mind races through options, all of them bad. If I refuse, she exposes me to Father, and everything I’ve risked with Mauricio becomes worthless. If I agree, I’m complicit in her theft, giving her even more leverage.
“How much time do I have?”
“Three days.” She hands me a flash drive—another one, because apparently my life is now measured in encrypted data. “Everything you need is here. Bank accounts, transaction records, the amounts I need you to hide. Make it clean, make it untraceable, and we both get what we want.”
“And if I can’t?”
“Then we both lose.” Her expression hardens. “But I think you’ll find a way. After all, you’ve been managing to fool your father for years. This should be simple in comparison.”
She leaves me alone in the study, the flash drive heavy in my hand.
I sink into the chair she vacated, staring at the device that represents yet another cage, another manipulation, another person trying to control me through fear and leverage.
My phone buzzes with a message on the encrypted app Mauricio set up.
Got home safe?
Three words. Simple concern wrapped in professional distance. But something about them—about knowing he’s checking on me, that someone cares whether I make it back alive—makes my chest tighten with emotion I can’t afford.
Safe. Complications arose. Will explain at next meeting.
His response comes quickly.
How bad?
Manageable.
That’s not reassuring.
I can handle it.
The typing indicator appears, disappears, appears again. Finally:
Be careful, Regina. Whatever’s happening, don’t take unnecessary risks.
