BRIAN

Daisy didn't pull away  or call me a tyrant like she usually did when I locked the perimeter down. Instead, she clutched the lapels of my tactical vest, her knuckles stark white, her forehead pressing directly into the center of my chest as a long, ragged sob wrecked her entire frame.

"He knew," she choked out, her voice muffled against the heavy canvas of my gear. "Brian, your father knew everything. He planned the whole thing. The resort, the lack of guards... he used me to blindside you."

"I know," I said, my jaw tightening until the bone ached.

I didn't loosen my grip on her jaw, but my...