This Bond of Ours (Trinity Alliance #3)

Prologue

The longer he stares, the more I’d like to listen to my instincts, to race away and hide somewhere he won’t find me. I’m starting to realize, though, there might not be anywhere safe from Victor Hernandez.

I’m also wondering how I ever thought this would be a good idea. Facing him head-on, that is, but fear aside, there’s no way I could shy away from holding him personally accountable.

While sitting across from him, his scent is working against me, twisting my insides in warning, telling me to run.

“No one is coming.” He grins, shifting to lean on his elbows.

The move is intentionally intimidating. He’s crowding closer, attempting to scramble my thoughts. I sit back, trying to maintain the distance, then crossing my legs and relaxing into my seat, a sign of my own confidence.

“I’m not sure why, though.” I opt for the truth as a way to level the playing field.

He mocks me with laughter, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re not sure why? I raised you better than that, Quintessa.”

I disagree with a quick shake of my head, holding a hand up to stop him. “Let’s not spend our time reminiscing. What happened in the past isn't going to change what you did yesterday.”

He hums, nodding his head in his conceited, pompous way. “I disagree, daughter," he croons, as though he’s trying to lull my racing anxiety. In reality, he is hoping to pick apart my determination, one small familial gesture at a time.

It won’t work, and I can’t let it. Not after what I have seen and now know. Remembering what I saw, and what happened, I answer my own question as to where the people are that I called for help, in a roundabout way.

I lift my eyes and use his technique of staring right through him as a way to feign my indifference. “You have alliances no one knows about, then?”

My father reclines back in his chair, showing me how absolutely confident he is about no one coming to help me.

“It is my job. Fostering and working hard at sourcing, then maintaining beneficial advocacy. But yes, there are some alliances less obvious than others that stretch further than you can imagine. Even I can admit, only to you, of course, that what I have managed is blatantly glorious.”

I smile, absorbing his confession while continuing to subtly chip away against his dominance, and his over inflated sense of self-worth.

Once he’s completely enthralled by his own supposed success, I use his flair for the dramatic and take a jab, intentionally speaking the way he hates. “You’re a cunt.”

I see the immediate impact of my cussing. He blinks in irritation before he manages to lock away his reaction. He’s back to maintaining this false facade when he speaks. “It seems that is a trait we share. But perhaps during our time apart, you will grow out of being one.”

As he talks, more of his scent blows across the space. Once upon a time, it would have brought me comfort, but once upon a time, I was a naive girl, unaware her father was such a foul man, willingly involved in abhorrent crimes.

He leans to the side of his chair, and my heart immediately races faster. After last night, I know he has killed before, so my fear is justified that he’s going to end our meeting with finality. If I had a weapon close by, I’d do it to him.

Instead of drawing a gun, he sets his briefcase on the table. With a small push, it tips to its side, and cash spills out. Bundles of it. “We’re at an impasse."

“We’re negotiating?” I ask, thinking for the first time I just might walk out of here alive.

“You tell me.”

Conscious of the games he likes to play, the recent events have made me see our time together differently. For a long time growing up, his “tests” were fun. Now I recognize his mental gymnastics as the workings of his devious intentions.

As a way of dealing with him, I lean in to all the tactics he taught.

Clearing my throat of his caustic scent, and the strangling influence of his designation, I try to hide the triumph from my eyes.

If he’s leading the negotiation, he’s as good as admitted he’s more disadvantaged in this situation than I am.

Apparently, I don’t hide my pride well enough.

“Don’t push me,” he warns with a snap of dominance.

I shake my head, looking away before swinging my gaze right back to him. “You say the strangest things sometimes.”

It’s an intentional barb, one he’s said to me many times. He does it to confound and cloud, to make you wonder if what you said was actually stupid or not. He did it constantly when I was younger to throw me off-kilter, and it used to work.

He dips his chin, his eyes flashing with his true character, reminding me of his reptilian nature. Oddly, he gives me a way to realign my emotions, back to the reasons we’re here.

“Considering you’re offering me a bag full of money, and there’s none of your ‘staff’ with us and you haven’t made any real threats, I think it’s safe to say you believe each and every word in the message I left on your phone this morning.”

He waves me off with a flick of his hand and rolls his eyes in one of his signature, dismissive moves. “Of course I believe you, sweetheart. Your stubborn determination is one of your most endearing qualities, but one I suspect will be your undoing too.”

I’d like to reach over the table and show him how stubborn I can be by punching him in his smug face.

“I want my sister,” I say, keeping all the snark and petulance from my voice.

“That’s impossible. If I give you her, I have no leverage. And since this is a negotiation—like you needlessly pointed out—I’m not about to give you everything you want and let you walk away, now, am I?”

“So, you will let me walk away?”

“For the time being.”

“You’re being cryptically diplomatic, Victor, and it’s giving me a headache.”

He chuckles, and it’s sludge-like because of how slimy he is. Glancing down at my hands, I twist them, staring at how ash-stained and broken my nails are. Such a small price to pay for the massive inferno they started.

Laying them on the table, I watch him fighting the urge to look down at them. The sad fact is, he won’t. As much as he wants to see the proof again, he won’t—because I want him to. The longer we sit in this room, the more intertwined our lives will be, and that’s the last thing I want.

“If I leave my sister here with you, what guarantee is there that you will keep your word?”

“My word will have to be good enough; it is all I have to offer. What about you, Quinn? Will you keep your word, or will she be the one to have to pay the price of my indiscretions?”

“Your indiscretions? Hardly,” I say, looking him dead in the eye.

“It was an indiscretion. That’s not who I am,” he insists.

I slam my mouth shut, not willing to waste my breath arguing. That isn’t why I’m here.

Victor steeples his fingers, like he’s deep in contemplation, but he’s simply lying in wait, ready to strike. Except, he hasn’t yet, and that means something. Whether he believes I’ll bring him down, or he thinks I’ll change my mind, remains to be seen.

“I have made promises to powerful people, Quinn. If I let those people down, the ramifications will not be burdened on just you or me. These people will stop at nothing. They will start with your sister before moving on to your mother. Once done with them, they will start on your cousins, aunts, and any woman associated with our family. I’d fight for you, of course, but then they’d involve others because you… ”

I slap my hand against the table. “No! You did this, Victor! You set this up, and now because you made a poor call, everyone but you is paying.”

“If you hadn’t burned down their warehouse, I may have had some leverage.”

My control snaps, the emotions I’ve been bottling up spilling over. “Bullshit!”

I don’t want to give him my anger or tears; I want him dead or at least held accountable. Yet, even after notifying the consulate, and sending them irrefutable evidence, I am facing the devil alone.

“Anyway”—he flicks away my outburst as if it’s nothing but an annoying fly—“I have managed to strike a deal with them. Which you should be grateful for. We have agreed your little stunt needs time to settle. We’ll take things slower, rebuilding when the time is right, if it ever is again.

But no matter what I do with them, there is still the promise I have made.

Will you step into the role, or do I delay them further, perhaps ultimately costing us more, so you can sleep better at night? Your sister is probably better suited.”

“Leave her out of it,” I snap.

“Then, it will be you?”

“Of course it will be,” I bite back with more emotion.

He points his finger at me, disappointment filling his eyes.

“You need time. And when you stop being so reactionary, you will know I speak the truth. Your perfect academic results and sharp intelligence aren’t going to be enough when all people will see is your age and your designation.

I say that as kindly as possible and with your best interests at heart, Quinn.

All I want is to see you happy.” He pauses and then makes me wait an uncomfortably long time before he speaks again.

“You’re eighteen, still a child, really, and you’re only recently designated; the combination means you're too emotional and overly sentimental to be reliable if you're set on tattling. If you were able to articulate in a more subjective and balanced manner, to say a situation and/or a person, they might have been here to listen to you. But maybe not too.”

He fucking smirks. And as levelheaded as I want to be, I can’t help but glare at the center of his forehead where I visualize his blood oozing.

I use it as a centering technique, staring between his eyes, envisaging his death until I have a better hold on my emotions.

It actually takes no time at all, because I will do this.

I will take down my father. “I will find someone to believe me.”

“I know. That’s why I insisted on delaying everything,” he patronizes.

“What about the child?”

“Oh please, Quinn. You can’t take what that woman is suggesting seriously, can you?”

I grimace, because what he said was so repulsive, I taste it like a sourness on the back of my tongue. I hate this man so much. How he can refer to the child who is obviously his with such a flippant reference is beyond me.

“Is it because he is deaf or because of who his mother is that you wanted them dead?”

“That’s quite an accusation, Quinn. Let’s stick to the facts, shall we?

The child’s mother's claims are unsubstantiated, and now, because of her untimely demise, and that of the child, I will never get the retraction I rightly deserve. In any event, you and your sister are cared for, but I can’t bequeath you my estate, for the simple fact neither of you are Alphas.

You can’t punish me for something my family put in place before I was even born.

They established the rules we now have to live by generations ago. ”

Victor Hernandez comes from a long line of pompous fucks. I see that more clearly today than ever before. My grandfather was equally horrific when he was alive, but I initially thought it was his age that made him such a prick. Now I know, it’s twisted into each strand of DNA they share.

I throw a curveball at him, since we’re talking death and murder. “Why not just kill me?”

He laughs again. This time, it’s more gregarious and authentic. His happiness is real.

“We’re family. That’s not how we treat each other.”

I nearly fucking choke on my own tongue. This fucking prick sitting across from me is giving me that answer after trying to murder his own flesh and blood. Although I’m the only one aware that attempt failed.

“Enough talk of things outside of our control,” he says, leaning back in his seat again.

I tip my head to the side, painting intrigue on my features, waiting for him to lead us on the path we’re on. This way, at least his motivations should become more understandable.

“Tell me, how would you discredit my notable achievements when the accolades come from such important and high-standing people in our society? And let's not forget, I’m only just starting to gain their support. I’m not yet hitting my peak, but at least I’m controlled and learned enough to peak.”

I can visualize each of those damn accolades he’s referring to, and most certainly, I am aware he is gaining more recognition daily.

The regional and state governments have held benefits in his honor, the university has scholarships in his name, private investors throw money at him like confetti at a wedding.

“You look perplexed. Is all this too much? You can come home, you know.”

“How? What you did is…” I hiss, raising my hand to jab a finger in his direction.

He throws his hands up, mocking me by taking an exaggerated, and overly emphasized, exhale. Exactly how he acts with my toddler sister.

“See, you proved my point just now by acting so irrationally. I say this again, if you want a different outcome to the one you’re dealing with, you need to think differently, change your strategy!”

“This is a game to you, isn’t it?”

When he doesn’t immediately answer, and his scent becomes more intense like a blossoming flower, I get another reminder of how his mind works. Everything is a game, the stakes get higher and higher, and there can only be one winner.

Unfortunately, he’s probably very right about the reason why the authorities didn’t come in and question him. My age, my gender, and my designation are all issues, but mostly, it’s his occupation and reputation. Discrediting Ambassador Victor Hernandez is something that will take time to do.

“Fine, then, Victor, let’s talk terms.”

“You make it sound like an onerous task, Quinn.”

I pull a face that is as obvious as if I snorted a laugh of disbelief.

“If you want to be difficult, I know my contact is happy to wait until your sister is of age. It really is up to you how this plays out. All of it. I mean, unless you are going to prove me right that you’re not the worthy adversary I had hoped you were.”

Everything in me stills. And it’s not like air escaping a balloon.

Quite the opposite. The pop is sudden and abrupt, and a huge, cavernous void is left in its wake.

The space left behind isn’t empty; it's full of resolution and revenge, determination and longing.

Taking down Victor Hernandez, discrediting him, ruining his reputation, and stopping him from hurting any others is my purpose in life.

And nothing will stand in my way. Not personal goals or career success.

Not time, not even the possibility of giddy dreams, and scent-matched packmates.

I will prove to him that my age, gender, and designation are actually my greatest qualities, my surest strength. Before I find someone who will listen and believe every word I say about what a stain my father is on our society.