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Sequel to Riding South
Trapped inside Tenney House and at the mercy of his father, Camilla and South are forced to face their greatest fears in order to bring down the Gentleman's Network--an organizat...
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Dressed in my summer whites, I sat in the back seat of the Cadillac, as far away from my father as the car would allow. He couldn't be serious.
"Dad," I started again. "Camilla and I can't get married. We're not ready."
By we're, I meant her. Camilla wasn't ready to marry me if her reaction this morning was any indication. I knew there would never be another girl I wanted to love more than her, even if our whole relationship was on a fast track, but I couldn't ruin her life. My dad needed to see reason, for once.
"Not ready?" My father let out an annoyed breath, not looking up from his newspaper. "Don't be ridiculous. What's there to be ready for?"
"Are you joking?"
I might not be an expert on love, but I was pretty confident marriage was something you shouldn't be forced into—especially not the way my father was doing it.
"You need to start trusting my judgment. Arranged marriages last longer than impulsive marriages for love. You should be thanking me. I'm not making you marry someone whose family has a better portfolio."
Was that supposed to make me feel better? That he wasn't forcing me to marry someone for money?
"There will be no more arguing on the matter. You're getting married to the Isley girl, and that's that."
My father eyed me from over the top of the Newport Times, and I glared back at him. I wondered how someone could look so evil while casually reading the newspaper. His eyes—eyes that were the same color as mine—flicked back to the paper. My dad licked his thumb before turning the page.
I leaned back in my seat and crossed my arms. From the rearview mirror, I could see Fitzpatrick looking all upset.
"I have a job for you," my father began, as if discussing the unusually warm weather today. Crossing one leg over the other. "And Camilla."
"Isn't forcing her to marry me enough?" I shot back.
"You both agreed to do as I ask—with a smile. Did you not?"
I gritted my teeth together. I didn't regret adding the part of our deal that was protecting West from my father's insults, but it didn't mean I was fucking happy about it. I gave my father a toothy, fake smile, and he sneered back at me.
"We're going to host an engagement party for you and Camilla at the Yacht club. And every member will be invited. Camilla still has access to all the offices at the club. I need you two to get into McGilvary's office, plant a recording device. I also want Camilla to make plans with... Stella," he bit out, "and her friend. Have her invite them to a bridal brunch or some nonsense."
I couldn't believe this was my life right now.
Engagement parties and bridal brunches as a cover for spying on the McGilvarys? Taking morality out of the picture, I'd been trained to be clandestine, so sneaking into an office wasn't a problem—but making Camilla help? That was a no-go.
