Avara POV
I stand at the same spot I was when I saw my dad talking to the mystery man. Which I suppose, is the same man that followed me and danced with me. I brush a hand down my prickly skin, rousing the forbidden sensations that I experienced when I was in his arms. Something I've never felt. Which is something I've been desperately trying to ignore, but it's there, burning quietly.
He's dangerous. Despite what my mind reasons, my heart won't deny the feeling. And as insane as it sounds, a part of me wonders if I'll ever see him again.
A larger part of me doesn't want to, for the obvious reasons, and one of them being what he said about me being a pawn. And it has me thinking. Why do we need to put up with this charade? Why can't we just marry now? Each party extracts what they want from the marriage, then we get it annulled. Why do we have to showcase this lie to the world? It's like we need to convince them, or perhaps just someone, that it is real. It doesn't make sense.
I have turned a blind eye to a lot of things because I never wanted to believe anything bad about my dad. But I can't help but contemplate if there's more to this than I'm not being told. I clearly know nothing about my father—only what he wants me to know. But I know someone who can tell me things I don't want to hear, but maybe what I need to know.
***
Allison: Vance wants to meet you.
Me: Another fake date? Why can't he just ask me himself?
Allison: He is. Should I send a car to pick you up?
Me: I'm not home. And there is another press conference about the go-green initiative that I'm speaking at.
Me: Something he should know, like I'm aware of his corporate gala with the board of directors and principal investors in attendance. Which I already have a dress for. We can talk then.
"Miss Du Pont."
I look up at the receptionist. She gestures to the dark wood door with a smile.
"He's ready to see you."
I switch off my phone and slip it into my bag. I rise and walk over to the door, giving it a polite knock before I open it. The municipal commissioner sets his eyes on me with peculiar perplexity. He's just as confused as he is curious as to the reason for my visit. He welcomes me in by gesturing to the open seat and I move to claim it. His eyes never break from mine, hardly blinking like he doesn't believe I'm here right now.
"This is a delicious surprise."
I frown at his choice of words. "One way to describe it."
"Why are you here, Avara Du Pont?"
"To talk about my father," I say bluntly, in no mood for beating around the bush and being quaint. "You accused me once of being ignorant. Perhaps I was hasty in ignoring you. I want to know the reason why you dislike my father."
"I do not dislike him," he says harshly. "I loathe him because he is just another corrupt politician with his own self-interests at his forefront. His ascension to power is built on bloody foundations. I bet you don't even know about the cases against him that miraculously vanished."
I lurch to the edge of my seat. "Cases?"
"He was never indicted. Those cases never went to trial because all the evidence they had on him, conspiring with felons, heavy-hitters, is all tied to an unknown crime syndicate. That evidence vanished, witnesses disappeared, and it all looked very suspicious, but in the eyes of the law—legal. Those dismissed cases never became public knowledge, which is why not even you know of them. No one will because he has a powerful, an undoubtedly nefarious entity backing him."
I nearly cry, overwrought by the claims. And that's all they are—claims.
"How would you know? What if you're wrong?"
"I knew the lead investigator that was digging into him and saw the nexus myself. I've known your father for many years and his rise to power. A kid from nowhere with nothing, is now a man rubbing shoulders with congressmen and elitists. Many believe he's making a ploy to be the next Governor."
"That position is taken."
"Accidents happen," he says with an ominous shrug. "Just like what happened to the witnesses that were set to testify against him. Sweetheart, that is how the game is played. Many politicians give speeches about combating crime, whilst allying themselves with mob bosses and mafia leaders. The government doesn't run the country. Gangs do. And your father is in the thick of it."
"He might have been coerced," I say to his defense.
He nods objectively. "Many crime lords coerce people by threatening them or their families. Yes, it's true. But only your father knows the truth. Everyone who was trying to discover it is dead."
***
My father concludes his speech. And it's met with a thunderous applause.
I strut down to stand before the podium. An explosion of camera flashes erupts in my face, barely able to see the multitude of microphones jutted right at me.
"My father, Mayor Du Pont, and the rest of the administrative c—council," I stutter. I never stutter. "They—they—uh have begun transformative plans for the new go-green initiative. Such as the creation of nature-based solutions," I blurt, so I don't have a chance of fumbling.
Scattered whispers ripple through the crowd, people leaning into one another, troubled faces looking back at me. I shake my head, trying to stave off whatever this is. Words form in my throat only to meet death in my mouth.
"And—uh—"
My breaths come out choppy and fast. I glance down at my trembling fingers digging into the thin slab of the bulging wood, meant to keep documents from slipping off the slanted face of the podium.
"Beginning with launching the schemes on sustainable urban transport." My father sidles my flank, easing me back by the shoulders, swapping us out. "As well as urban forestry and promoting smart energy policies to encourage the use of non-renewable resources to mitigate the city's carbon footprint."
Luciano draws me back to his side, looping his arm around mine.
Under a spell of light-headedness, I try to regulate my unstable breathing, but I'm failing miserably—my chest rising and falling erratically. What the hell is happening to me? The searing sun above only intensifies my hot flashes, wanting desperately to push my brother away, but I don't. I can't. On the verge of tears because I feel like I'm losing control over my own body in front of a crowd of people.
Through a picture-perfect smile, Luciano says, "Avie, are you okay?"
I nod, knowing full well that my voice would betray me.
An hour passes before the event culminates. Whilst my father concludes things with the press. My brothers escort me to the private parking on the flank of the building, meant only for the councilmen.
"What happened to you out there?" Silas asks. "You completely choked."
My phone pings with a message, followed by another.
"I don't know," I say truthfully, pulling out my phone. "I think I just need to lie down."
I check my phone, reading the message on the notification screen.
Unknown number: You okay?
Me: Who is this?
Unknown number: I'm guessing you didn't get the answers you wanted from the commissioner? I'll send you a location. Be there tomorrow night and come alone.
Me: And why would I do that?
Unknown number: Because I have the answers you want… or maybe I just want another dance.