Page 170 of Reckless Obsession

My father’s voice cuts cleanly through my thoughts. Slowly, I lift my head and find everyone at the table looking at me. He’s sitting at the head of the table, one hand around his glass, his expression unreadable in the warm dining-room light. Everyone has gone quiet around him.

Oh.

Apparently, he has been talking to me.

“Are you even listening?” he asks.

I glance at Igor, who gives me a look that says you’re about to die. Then I look back at my father and smile.

“Of course I am.”

His eyes narrow slightly.

“Then repeat what I just said.”

Fuck.

I stare at him.

Then at the table.

Then back at him.

“…Something about the project?”

Igor snorts beside me.

My father sets his fork down with the same deliberate calm he does everything else. He doesn’t raise his voice when he’s annoyed. He doesn’t need to. His silence has always been more intimidating than shouting.

“I said,” he repeats, “that you’ll be accompanying me to Warsaw on Monday.”

I blink. “I will?”

“Yes.” He replies. “You’ll be there for the negotiations. You need to start becoming more involved in the company.”

“I already am involved.”

“Not enough.”

“I’ll survive.”

“You’re coming.”

I let out a frustrated sigh. “Can’t.”

That finally gets a reaction. His eyes narrow slightly.

“Can’t?”

“I have plans.”

“What plans?”

“A trip,” I reply, the words coming out casually. “I’ll be leaving tomorrow.”

That gets his attention.

Not visibly, not to anyone who doesn’t know him. But I know him. His fingers pause around his glass, and his eyes sharpen by the slightest degree.