Sophia’s POV
“You adjusted real quick after divorcing Jerry Baxter, huh?” Father scoffed, his words dripping with condescending derision.
Father was smaller than I recalled.
His rough looking clothes hanging loose on his body but his bloodshot eyes, the acrid stench of ooze on his breath and that mean look in his eyes which silently promised violence were the same.
Immediately I realized that Father was actually here and not just an imagination my mind had cooked up to interrupt what would have undoubtedly been a mistake, I excused myself and took Father to the closest place we could be alone.
Mr Prescott didn’t question me although I could have sworn I saw his brow furrow slightly with what might have been worry.
I had no idea how Father found out where I was or what had brought him here.
No, that was a lie.
I knew exactly what had brought Father here even though I didn’t want to believe it.
“Why are you here?” I asked anyway and Father chuckled darkly in response before turning to face me with that look in his eyes that had always scared me.
“Is that any way to speak to your father?” He asked.
Had he never been my Father in truth? When had he ever been anyone but the man who had continually abused Mom and me?
Squaring up to him, I refused to back down. I was no longer the girl who would cower in his presence.
“You stopped being my father the day you sold me off to the Baxters.”
The words were barely out of my lips when the slap landed on my cheek.
I didn’t make a sound or whimper as Father’s hand closed around my throat, choking me as he vibrated with anger.
“A few years of no discipline and you learnt to talk back to me?” He snarled indignantly, his sour breath wafting over my face. “You might be Prescott’s little thing now but before that, you are my daughter!”
I could taste blood in my mouth from his slap and flecks of black dotted my vision from my lightheadedness but I didn’t struggle or cry like I would have in the past.
Instead, I smiled.
“You are no one to me,” I said softly. “The next time you hit me, I’ll have you arrested. Being Prescott’s ‘little thing’ has its perks.”
Father’s eyes widened in surprise and his grip on my neck eased up slightly before he finally let go of me, his shoulders shaking slightly.
Wait, why was he letting this go so easily? I’d expected another slap or two for my ‘insolence’.
Then a chilling laughter left Father’s lips, his head tipping back slightly as though I had greatly amused him.
“How is your mom these days?” Father quipped, a sardonic smile playing on his lips.
My heart went cold and my body went rigid. “Leave Mom out of this. This is between you and me.”
Father tipped his head slightly to the side, that amused smile still on his lips.
“I’m still her legal guardian, girl, and I don’t like the treatment you have her on. She always wanted to die at home, none of all this fuss.”
No.
He wanted to stop Mom’s treatment. If he did that, Mom wouldn’t survive for up to an hour. And Dad could do that. I was Mom’s daughter but as her spouse, he had the right to make decisions for her when she was incapable of doing so.
Father’s smile broadened maliciously and I caved.
He could hurt me all he wanted but I couldn’t let him hurt Mom.
“What do you want?” I rasped.
“One hundred million for a start,” He shrugged. “I’ve got a bit of debt to be cleared.”
“One hundred million dollars?” My jaw dropped. Was this man for real? “How am I supposed to get that much money?”
Father’s features tightened with displeasure.
“You should have thought of that before ruining things with the Baxters,” He said roughly, his hand reaching out to grip my elbow painfully. “They took everything from me and now you are going to give it back.”
One hundred million dollars.
Mr Prescott had given me his black card and while I had no way of knowing its limits, I knew I couldn’t just take that much money from him.
“I don’t have that much and-” I tried protesting but Father didn’t seem to hear me.
“I want it in cash. You have until noon tomorrow or your mother gets a visit from me.”
Tears pricked my eyes involuntarily.
“She is your wife, I am your daughter, how can you do this to us?”
“Noon, girl,” Father didn’t look at me as he spoke, he was too busy walking away. “I’ll be expecting my money by noon.”
Short of robbing a bank or Mr Prescott there was no way I could possibly get that kind of money in such a short time.
But what was the alternative? Letting Mom die?
Hot tears ran down my cheeks. They weren’t just tears of pain but tears of anger and frustration.
Frustration that I had come so far and reinvented myself but not far enough to escape my past and avoid this sort of manipulation.
When I managed to put myself together, as much as I could, I returned to the restaurant.
Mr Prescott was at my side in seconds, placing his jacket on my shoulders.
“Sophia, are you alright?” He asked, his grey eyes clouded with worry.
Then he cupped my cheek that still burned from Father’s slap. “Did your dad-”
I stepped back and away from Mr Prescott’s touch, his hand falling from my face back to his side.
Despite my efforts, my voice didn’t come out right when I spoke.
“About earlier, I made a mistake.”