“So this isn’t a political move?” she asks as she recaps the water. “This isn’t because of who my father is?”
“Sweetheart, I have no idea who you are, much less who your father is.”
She has the gall to look confused, her head tilted to the side as if I’m crazy or have been stuck under a rock to not know who she is.
“I’m Raya Reed,” she says matter-of-factly.
“Is that supposed to mean something to me?”
She scoffs, the sound a grating noise, as if she’s got the upper hand in this situation.
Her nose scrunches before she speaks.
“Look me up,” she says, her words a challenge.
I pull my phone from my pocket and type in her name.
I consider myself a man capable of controlling all of my emotions at all times. I know that she can read the surprise in my mannerisms, at the way my body locks up with what I’m seeing.
She is not only Texas Senator Thomas Reed’s daughter, the man who will be the next President of the United States, but she’s already been listed as missing.
I swipe up, scrolling past article after article with details of her disappearance.
“Fuck,” I whisper.
I’m not known for making mistakes, but this could possibly be the biggest mistake of my life.
Chapter 6
Raya
He didn’t stick around long after discovering who I am.
Normally good at reading people, I had no idea what his thoughts were before he left.
I have no clue what this means for me.
Will he let me go?
Will he kill me because I’ve seen his face?
Have I watched too many crime shows?
Does it really happen that way?
I thought maybe I had leverage. If he wanted to trade me for a big payday, then he’d be less likely to hurt me, right?
All of that flew out the window when he pulled my name up online.
My mind holds onto a story I read about years ago.
Another politician’s daughter, Kaci Stewart, was abducted, and she was missing for over a year, after having been sold into sexual slavery. The news of that is what prompted my own parents to tighten their security on me. At least that’s the explanation they gave. At the time, I thought it had more to do with the fact that I was a teenager and starting to feel caged and trapped. That was when I was still willing to argue with them about having more liberties.
Maybe they were right, and my stupidity landed me here.
I can’t decide if being alone in this room is better than him standing right in front of me.
I try not to think about all the preparations he could be making right now to deal with me after finding out who I am.