Page 52 of The Taste of Deceit

“That’s not very long.”

“No, sir.”

“So what makes you think you’re ready to marry my daughter?”

Because every answer running through my head sounds too simple. Because she’s home. Because I can’t imagine waking up beside anyone else. Because I knew before she did.

Instead, I tell him the truth.

“I’ve never been more certain of anything.”

He nods once.

“I appreciate you asking.”

Before he can say anything else, I take a slow breath.

“Before you answer, there’s something you need to know about me.”

He waits.

“The life most people think I live isn’t my life.”

His eyes stay on mine.

“I wasn’t hired to drive people around.”

I pause.

“I was raised in organized crime, and it’s all I’ve ever known.

I hold his gaze.

“I’ve spent my adult life protecting my family. I’ve done things I’m not proud of. I’ve taken lives when I believed it was necessary. And before you ask, yes. Sarah knows.”

He doesn’t look at me. Instead, he reaches for the comb hanging from the stall door and starts working it through Daisy’s coat with slow, even strokes. Dust lifts into the afternoon light before drifting back to the ground. The mare flicks an ear but doesn’t move. Neither of us says a word.

He brushes her for another minute, setting the comb aside before running a hand down her neck. His palm lingers there for a moment as he lets out a slow breath. Only then does he turn to look at me.

“You expect me to hand my daughter over to a man who kills for a living?”

“I expect you to hand her over to a man who knows every part of her.”

Silence.

“Sir, she told me.”

He doesn’t answer. He runs his hand along Daisy’s back. Only then does he look at me.

“Did she?”

“Yes, sir.”

His eyes don’t leave mine.

“So you know what happened to my little girl.”

“I do.”