Page 1 of Her Devil

PROLOGUE

IVY

The silence is pronounced. More so in the wake of the screaming. Whiskey runs down the wall four foot to my right, and I’m reasonably sure I’ve been stunned silent.Well, that’s a first.

“This isn’t up for negotiation,” my father clips out. He stands, smoothing down the wrinkles in his shirt as he does so, sparing half a glance at the cut crystal now shattered on the floor, before taking the seat beside me.

He’s never raised his voice to me before, his cool and calm demeanour sliding back over him like a familiar jacket. The warmth slides back into his eyes, a smile teasing the edge of his lips as it does so. But I’ve seen it now—the crack. This is just another mask that he wears, another persona he becomes; doting father.

The walls around my heart build quickly, quicker than I ever expected they would. And it’s strange, this silence. The absence of his genteel and placating tone, infantizing and demeaning, should one choose to take it that way, but it’s also empty of the sharp prickly way he spoke just moments ago, the glass hurtling through the air so swiftly after.

How quickly he turned from one person to another.That’s never happened before.

But then, how rarely do I refuse him something, anything?

I’ve been his good little girl for a long time—too long. I’ve smiled at the cameras and doted on the perfect daddy, the one I thought I had. But that ideal lays shattered on the floor, along with the glass I bought him just a few birthdays ago.

“It’s one year, that’s all I’m asking,” he says, the mask back in place as he reaches for my hand, pulling it into his lap.

But I snatch it back. He’s not asking, he’s demanding, just with a pretty spin. And I can’t bring my gaze to his, my eyes focused on a small blemish on his desk, a bruise in the wood, perhaps, a spot where the varnish didn’t take as well, or maybe it’s something different, something darker. This version of my father could be capable of many things I’ve never considered. Until now.

“You can go and do whatever you want after.” He sighs, resigned, dismissing the tension that crackles between us with the wave of his hand. “Give me one year at Pendleton Prep and then you can go and do whatever psychology major it was you wanted to do.”

My eyes narrow as his words sink in. He’s never commented about what I want to do before. Yes, he knew that university was always going to be in the future for me, why wouldn’t it be? But this is the first time he’s ever commented about something specific, and something the two of us have never openly discussed.

“And why can’t I go now?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. It’s a defensive position, I know, already subconsciously preparing for the verbal blows that will come my way, for the rejection.

“It’s bad timing. With the elections coming up next year and all the political instability that’s hanging around at the moment, I need you close and available. If you’re at a university at the other end of the country somewhere, that’s a problem.”

There is a stack of conditional offers hidden in my drawer upstairs. I’ve got the results required in the bag, there’s no doubt about that, and I can have my pick of places, once they’re confirmed.

There’s no logical reason I can see for him to send me away to a preparatory school. What kind of draconian ridiculousness is this anyway? It’s just an excuse to control me for a little longer.

“And if I say no?”

I throw the proverbial gauntlet down, testing how it feels.

He’s been my safe space, my solace. The rock I never realised I needed. And now, the entire house is shaking around me, metaphorically speaking, and all because I chose to say no.

I must have refused him before, for something or other. I’m sure I’m not a complete doormat for him, am I? But the anger that flickers over his features briefly makes me reconsider. Maybe I have been?

“Those offers might just disappear.” His eyes narrow and the words tumble from him idly, without thought, like rocking my entire universe is nothing more than a minor inconvenience to him.

“You can’t do that.” I gasp, my horror clear as I turn to face him.Well, he has my attention now.

“I don’t have to.” He smiles, all the warmth gone from his eyes. “Because you’re going to be a good little girl for one last time and spend twelve months learning the basics at Pendleton Prep. You’re going to make the contacts that will secure your position for years to come, and anything else I decide. That way, I won’t have to do anything drastic with your credit cards.”

My mouth slams shut, anger surging through me as I stand, walk out, and slam the door behind me.

It’s more than clear I’m not going to get any movement with him. There’s no negotiating allowed here. It’s his way or no way. And no way leaves me penniless and alone. My mother isn’t going to fight my corner any more than she already has, she’s going to stand by and watch him take everything from me, one thing at a time.

“Well, it was a pleasure doing business with you,” he calls loudly, the sound echoing down the corridor from his home office, his satisfied chuckle following my every harried step as my blood boils.

ONE

IVY

“Do you think there’s a Starbucks on campus?” Tamsin asks from the passenger seat, disinterestedly flicking through the Pendleton Prep brochure. “Or do you think they’re going to have one of those bougie places with like forty different kinds of tea?”

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