Evie

 

I’d known for a while that my father wasn’t a good man. That wasn’t something that I was unaware of. I had always thought that maybe …he thought he was doing things for the right reasons, or that there were right reasons for the things that he was doing, but I had to accept the fact that my father was none of those things—he was a monster.

 

The very blatant threat to my child’s life is what had me returning to him, the dutiful daughter. Speculations were circulating around over the validity of both press releases. My father played up the speculation, only offering this to the press:

 

My daughter has been through a very tough and trying time in the recent months. She should be given her privacy and her time to recover while we sort through the events leading up to her disappearance and her return.

 

In other words, I had no idea what I was talking about and my trauma was so severe that no one should take me seriously.

 

I showed up at charities and fundraisers. I was never without a guard—for my own safety and protection—and I was never allowed to be alone, even when I was brought to the family home. I had learned that my father had fired Mary Ann after she had ‘let’ me get away with Tony. For that, I felt somewhat sorry; what was she to have done—fight him off? I’d have left with him anyway, but it was obvious that my father didn’t care about anyone else other than himself.

 

Mary Ann was replaced by another large, hulking guard. He would literally follow me everywhere, and I had no moment’s solitude. And, unlike in my first few months of pregnancy, I was rather large. I wouldn’t be able to run from this man to make a break for it, even if I wanted to.

 

What was more, Tony hadn’t come for me yet.

 

There were stirrings here and there that something was going on with the Esposito family. There were businesses being moved and sold and assets being consolidated. I knew that Tony had been moving for a cleaner-running family business—for the sake of our child. Is that what he was still busy on? Or had he simply moved on after I defied him?

 

I missed him terribly, but didn’t have the ability to contact him. I was, for the first time in months, utterly and wholly alone, and it was far worse than the last time that I found myself imprisoned by my own father.

 

# # #

 

“You’ve read all your cue cards, I assume?”

 

“I have them memorized, father.”

 

“And you know not to deviate? That off-the-cuff stuff only works in certain cases, and I had these crafted perfectly for this event.”

 

“I know how to read and memorize cue cards, father. You taught me that well, remember, while you were teaching me how to be your mouth piece?”

 

“Ever the pleasant bit of company, darling.”

 

I rolled my eyes as one of my father’s assistants worked on my make-up. We were preparing for his recent charity event. It was supposed to offset the fact that my father was still under investigation—from what I found out, for fraud, extortion, and a decent bit of other illegal dealings and handlings. My father was doing a good job at trying to sweep things under the rug, having pulled a lot of strings to make the proceedings happen behind very, very closed doors and make it out like it was still through no fault of his own that this was happening to him. That it was, in fact, he that was being extorted. He was the victim.

 

I could laugh.

 

I didn’t, however, as the last bit of makeup was applied to my face. I was conservative enough to be demure, but done up enough to make people want to get to know me—according to my father.

 

“Well, come on. Let’s go, Evelyn. The press isn’t going to make itself.”

 

I don’t remember much of the speech. I had memorized the cue cards and recited them verbatim, making sure that I was putting enough emphasis and inflection on the right words that my father wouldn’t be able to complain about them. The crowd ate up my speech—something that was highly self-congratulatory as far as my father was concerned and full of lies about the kind of man he was and how much he was focused on helping people.

 

Afterward, my father answered questions and gave his own speech. I stood by and listened to him dutifully, as if I was agreeing with everything he was saying and not utterly disgusted by the person he had become.

 

Or, in reality, always had been.

 

I was very annoyed that I couldn’t’ get a drink. It would have at least taken the edge off of everything while I milled around, answered questions, and pretended not to be annoyed with all of the blatant stares that I was getting from people—and the stares that they were aiming at my belly. It was insensitive and insufferable in a number of ways.

 

A waiter walked by me with a try of hors d'oeuvres. I took one, nibbled, and then snagged another from another waiter. My pregnancy hunger wasn’t helped by my irritation and my anger with my father, after all.

 

“Evie!”

 

A voice called to me and I turned. There was a man standing behind me. He was very tall and very handsome. He came up to me, along with my father. I raised my brow suspiciously at the man as my father smiled at me. It wasn’t one of the warm smiles one would expect from their father. It was one of those warning smiles, like don’t mess this up—don’t do anything you’re not supposed to be doing.

 

“Hello, father,” I said, still to the point—curt.. I inclined my head at the unnamed man. “And you are?”

 

“Ha, she’s so forward, isn’t she? I would have introduced you, had you given me the chance to do so, Evie.” My eyes flickered over to my father and I scoffed, but turned my attention back to the man with a smile. I held out my hand. “I’m sorry. My manners must be effected by my pregnancy.”

 

“It’s no worries,” the man said, taking my hand. “Eric Williams. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

 

“Likewise.”

 

“So, what brings you and my father over to my neck of the woods? I have to say, nothing too interesting is happening over here at the moment. I’m merely munching on treats—eating for two is so, so very satisfying,” I said, leaning over to the man, knowing that it would annoy my father for me to do so.

 

My father’s mouth twitched, and I smiled. I knew it.

 

Eric, however, laughed.

 

“I love to see a girl with humor. Tell me.” He took a sip from his glass and eyed my belly. That’s when I my eyes narrowed suspiciously. I eyed my father, who was enigmatically silent, and he previous, pompous look returned. “Do you know the sex of it? The baby, that is?”

 

The question threw me off and I stared at Eric for a moment before answering.

 

“Oh? Uhm. No. I had wanted it to be a surprise,” I answered. “Why?”

 

“A surprise?” Eric seemed confused on that note. “You don’t think that’s good information to know? All things considered? What are you going to tell people?”

 

Now I was getting really confused.

 

“Well, I had assumed that I was going to tell people when the baby was born what the baby’s gender—”

 

“And if it’s not what someone wants?”

 

My brows furrowed. I had somehow completely lost the conversation. I took another bit of food from a passing waiter, wishing more and more that the actual meal would come sooner.

 

“I’m afraid we’re going to have to back pedal. I don’t believe I understand the intention of your question?”

 

My father and Eric exchanged a look, and Eric ran his hand through his hair. He looked at me apologetically.

 

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “Your father said that you still might be a little confused and disoriented. I had thought that, with how eloquently you gave the speech, perhaps tonight was a good night—”

 

“A good night for what, exactly?” My eyes flashed to my father, who was decidedly silent. “What are you talking about? Why did you want to come over here and talk to me?”

 

“Well, about the baby of course.” Eric nodded down. “My wife and I have been trying for years, with no luck. Your father explained the gravity of the situation to me—”

 

“The gravity of what situation, I wonder?” This time, my eyes stayed on my father as I spoke, demanding along with my words an answer to what was going on here. This time he was the one who spoke, picking up where Eric left off.

 

“It’s all right, dear. Eric is very sympathetic and understanding. I explained to him the situation and how confusing everything has been for you. All the brainwashing that you endured with those thugs and how they made you think that this—” he gestured to my belly “—was actually something that you wanted. It’s all right if it’s not a good night, dear. But I wanted to introduce the two of you because he’s interested in adopting the baby. Once it’s born.”

 

“I’m not giving up my baby,” I said. My teeth grit. How dare he? “Everyone knows exactly what happened to me. I said it in my press conference—”

 

“Ah, the one that Tony put her up to, yes.” My father nodded, sagely. “Brute of a man. She still has a hard time deciphering what are her thoughts and what are the thoughts that Tony put into her head.” He gave me a look, one of warning. I simply glared back at him.

 

“It’s all right,” Eric chimed in. “We can speak another time. I completely understand, and I don’t want to push Evie anywhere that she’s probably not ready for right at this moment. If you want my number—”

 

“No!” My yell carried, but I didn’t give a damn. “There’s not going to be an adoption. I don’t know what else my father told you, but his promises and stories are lies! I wasn’t forced into this. If anything, he forced this situation when he decided to forcibly send me away to have my baby in secret, locking me away like some sort of criminal—”

 

“Evelyn—”

 

“And then on top of that, threatening to have a doctor kill my baby if I didn’t come along and comply with him! If you want to know who the real monster is, he’s standing right in front of you. My father. Rick Brown. Twisted and corrupt. Well, you can’t twist me anymore. You’re not making me give this baby away, even if I have to run away and find Tony myself. We love each other—”

 

“I’m sure that’s why he’s come to your rescue. Oh, wait—”

 

“Actually.”

 

My father and the crowd silenced its gossip as another voice joined in the argument. It was a voice that I knew well—one that I had been craving to hear again ever since my father forced me back under his wing.

 

I turned and saw Tony standing behind me. My eyes widened and I was shocked.

 

“Tony?”

 

“I thought since there was such an extensive conversation going on about me, I would go ahead and join on in.”