“Wait–are you telling me you’re marrying me off already?” Talk about bat shit crazy parenting.
“Not at all, my child.” My father pats me on the hand, a gesture which I think he means to be reassuring but feels awkward and forced, only reinforcing the fact we barely know each other. We have a long way to go before any real dad/daughter bonding can happen.
“But as the sole Archaic heir, it behoves you to consider all angles,” he continues. “As a woman, many will view you as weak and seek to take advantage of you. Someone like Archer can act as a guardian, letting would-be assassins know that if they are to come after you, it’s not just House Archaic they’d have to worry about but House Knight as well. There’s a good reason I asked him to bring you to me. I figured the two of you would be able to bond over a shared experience. Are you telling me you don’t feel a connection with him?”
With my kidnapper? Sure, Dad. I got instant Stockholm Syndrome the second I saw those baby blue eyes and that sexy, sexy ass.
“I don’t think I have a connection with anyone right now,” I say. “I mean, my whole life I thought you were dead and not only were you here all along, you're the head of some weird gangster cartel.”
“I’m not a gangster nor do I run a cartel.” My father is quick to correct me. “My business interests are completely legitimate until proven otherwise. However, I’ll let your attitude slide–once. The way this town works is a little unorthodox, I’ll grant you. But I think you’ll soon find yourself fitting in. It’s in your blood after all. It won’t be long before you discover your ruthless side. Now if I recall, we had a deal. I am happy with the reports I’ve received about your behaviour, so true to my word you may speak to your foster mother.”
“You’re giving me my phone back?” I sit up a little straighter, excited at the thought of being able to contact the outside world again.
“Oh, no,” my father chuckles. “I think we’re a long way away from my being able to trust you with your phone. No, you may use this burner to have a brief conversation with your foster mother. Tell her you’re staying with friends but do not mention anything about me or I’ll be forced to take action. If I’m happy with the way you speak to her, we can make it a regular event.”
He passes me a phone with Katy’s number already programmed into it. He nods, encouraging me to press the button to make the call, like he is doing me a huge favour instead of giving me the bare minimum.
Still, Katy must be going out of her mind with worry by now. Much as I wanted to defy my father and throw the phone out of the window, I owed it to her to let her know I was okay.
She answers the phone within three rings.
“Katy?”
“Ivy! Oh, thank goodness. Where are you? Why did you disappear like that? When I went looking for you, I found your rucksack near the shop and I was imagining all sorts of terrible things. I called the police, but they said you are old enough to do what you want and to come back to them in a few days if I hadn’t heard anything.”
“I’m sorry, Katy.” She sounds terrible, like she had been crying for hours. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I met up with some friends and lost track of time.” I cringe as soon as the words leave my mouth. Katy knows me better than that. She knows I don’t have many friends, and certainly not any I am close enough to want to run away with them. But what else was I supposed to say?
“Really?” I can hear the disbelief oozing out of every pore. “And what are the names of these ‘friends’?”
“Err… Jane and Jo.”
“All right, Ivy. I’ve never heard of a Jane or a Jo. I know when you’re lying to me, so tell the truth. It’ll be okay. I promise. What’s really going on? Are you in some kind of trouble?”
“No… not really.” I didn’t want to say too much in case my father had set up recording software. If he listened to this call later, I don’t want him to think I have been sending Katy hidden messages.
“There’s something wrong. You might think you can fool me, but I know you too well. Tell me where you are, Ivy. I’ll come get you, no matter how far away you are.”
“I’m really sorry, Katy, but I’m not coming home. It’s my eighteenth birthday soon which means I’ll be out of the care system and I have to stand on my own two feet. I’ve been given the chance to start a new life and I think it’s best if I give it a go rather than being a burden on you. I’ll call you soon to let you know I’m okay. You’ve been an awesome foster mum, but it’s time to say goodbye and move on.”
“Ivy! Tell me what’s really going on! Ivy!”
“Bye, Katy.” I hung up.
“Good girl.” My father beams his approval. “Speaking of your eighteenth birthday, I want you to start thinking about what you’d like from me. Money’s no object, so you can have a car, a couple of weeks in the Maldives…”
“What about my own home far, far away from here?”
My father laughs. “I really do admire your sense of humour, my child. But I mean it. Have a serious think about what I can do for you. Meanwhile, I want you to start planning your party with Isabella. She is an exceptional event planner and she’ll make sure everything runs smoothly. I was thinking a mask ball might be a good idea, give you an excuse to get dressed up, make a display of power.”
“A masked ball?” That sounded like my idea of Hell. I have been planning on spending my eighteenth at the local pub with Katy, enjoying my first legal taste of alcohol. “Who would I invite to a ball? I barely know anyone in this town and I’m not exactly Miss Popularity.”
“Oh, you don’t need to worry about the guest list.” My father waves away my concerns. “I’ll make sure everyone who needs to be is invited. You just have to focus on making it the best eighteenth birthday party a girl can want. We need to show the other houses Ivy Archaic has arrived.”
“So it’s my party, but I don’t get a say in who’s invited?"
“My girl learns fast.” My father has an air of smugness about him. “This is why I want you to be sure you choose a present you really want. That’s for you. The party is for everyone else. This is our opportunity to remind everyone that House Archaic is on the rise. We have to make the right impression on the right people. I’ll have Isabella coach you in advance to make sure you don’t do anything foolish.”
With that, our conversation appears to be at an end. My father pulls out his phone and starts talking in some language I can’t identify, let alone speak. So, I gazed glumly out the window for the remainder of the journey until we get home and I am able to escape to my room.
All in all, day one wasn’t too bad.
Chapter Seven
Ivy Archaic
My first class the next morning is music with Mr Metcalf, the one bright thing about my life right now. I didn’t want to risk bringing in my precious new Gibson just in case someone like Ally decides to have an ‘accident.’ While I was sure my father would just buy me a replacement, I don’t think I will ever get into the mentality of spending money for the sake of it. Besides, guitars are like children. You look after them your whole life. I don’t want anything bad to happen to my baby.