Elah's Plaything

by Lydia Rowan

  He was an imposing physical presence, but more than anything else, his eyes grabbed her. They were dark, almost pupil-less, the brown so deep it was effectively black. And cold, so cold she wanted to hug herself, rub her arms for relief. He wasn’t handsome, not in any classic sense, but his raw, masculine appeal, the power he exuded, was undeniable.

  She blinked and wiped her hands on the black wool slacks she wore. She couldn’t just stare at the man all day, so she gulped, extended her hand, and walked toward him as she said, “Hello, Mr. Avakian. I’m Lottie Trufant. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

  A moment passed, then another, and he finally reached out and took her hand in his. His palm was warm, his grip firm, and she couldn’t ignore the shock that the contact ignited where they touched or the tingle that then moved up her arm or the somersault of her heart that forced her to call on every ounce of her discipline not to flinch or pull her hand back to calm her response.

  “Your father taught you well, I see,” he said as he broke the handshake, showing no reaction to the energy that had passed between them in that brief touch.

  She raised a questioning brow, her mind a swirling mass of feelings, irritation now among them as she watched him behave so nonchalantly.

  “That was a lie, Ms. Trufant. You aren’t at all pleased to make my acquaintance.”

  His words, though they betrayed not even a hint of emotion, triggered another round of annoyance and were yet another reminder that she needed to stay focused, tingly shocks or not. There was something happening here; this man had an agenda, and she couldn’t let herself forget it for a single second.

  “Well, since you’ve seemed to dispense with niceties, why are we here?”

  “Ask your father.”

  She looked over at her dad, who stood dazed in the middle of the room. That was enough; she was done dealing with this obnoxious man.

  “Daddy, let’s go.” She turned her back to Avakian and walked back toward her father.

  “I suggest you not, Councilman. Sit.”

  She didn’t turn back to Avakian, but her father’s gaze lifted to a place behind her shoulder, and she knew he was looking at the conference table in the corner of the room.

  “N-no. We’ll stay,” her father said. “Let’s sit, Lottie.”

  Her jaw dropped, confusion no doubt etched on her face as she watched him walk to the table and sit, still in a semistupor. Whatever this was, it was far, far worse than Lottie had feared. Avakian followed and sat directly across from her, those cold black eyes taking her and her father in.

  “What do you want?” her father asked, some of the vigor returning to his voice.

  Her father’s question earned a smile from Elah, one that chilled her to her very core.

  “I want everything, Councilman. Starting with your daughter.”

  Chapter Two

  The slight widening of her eyes and the pursing of her lips were the only things that gave away Ms. Trufant’s reaction. Her father, on the other hand, seemed to collapse into himself, and Elah wasn’t above admitting the satisfaction he felt at the sight. Seemed the councilman cared about his daughter; the question was, would he care enough to save her?

  “What do you mean?”

  Her words drew his attention, and he found himself looking at her again. His initial assessment of her from the restaurant had been confirmed. She was wholesomely pretty, very tall, very curvaceous, neatly, almost primly dressed. Still not the type that usually appealed to him, but he found himself impressed. She’d handled herself well so far while her father practically fell apart. Even now, after his announcement, she still held it together.

  “Exactly what I said,” he responded. “You’re going to marry me. Today.”

  That got a reaction. She scoffed incredulously and waved a hand, dismissing his words.

  “Daddy, we’re leaving,” she said, the hardness in her voice a perfect match for the hard glare she launched at him, anger pouring from her gaze like lava until she masked the expression and reverted to her calm, composed facade. And impressive though it was, he could see it had been a facade; Ms. Trufant was, to put it mildly, displeased.

  She stood and looked at her father expectantly. Elah said nothing, waiting to see how the councilman would respond. Elah hadn’t told the man anything, had given no hint of the information he’d collected, but the councilman seemed to sense that the time for reckoning had arrived.

  “We need to hear him out, sweetie,” the other man said, voice scarcely above a whisper.

  “What could we possibly need to hear after the craziness he just spewed?” she asked, her voice going slightly high-pitched. Then she glanced over at Elah quickly as if she’d almost forgotten he was in the room for a moment.

  When she looked back at her father, she reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. The touch seemed to startle him, and he jumped and then peered at her imploringly. Elah wished he could see her eyes, perhaps read the silent communication that passed between them. He couldn’t, but whatever the exchange, it seemed to sap her. Without speaking, she resumed her seat, and while her eyes betrayed nothing, her posture had sunk. She looked at Elah head-on, narrowed her eyes slightly, and leaned forward.

  “I don’t know what’s going on here, but you have five minutes, and then I’m gone and I’m taking my father with me.”

  He’d need far less than that. Rather than responding, he nodded at the envelopes in front of both of them. She grabbed one and removed the bound booklet inside and began flipping through as the councilman mimicked her actions. Elah watched her reaction, intrigued by the play of emotion on her face and in her body. There was a slight bunching of her eyebrows, a slight drop of her jaw, a hitch of her head to the left. Given what he knew the document contained, he was again impressed. A different, weaker person would have had a much more vehement response; her father’s reaction was proof of that. The man’s face had fallen completely, and if Elah believed him capable of such a thing, he would have thought he saw shame somewhere under the shock. It must be rough for the councilman to see decades of misdeeds laid out in black and white, watch the scales fall away from his beloved daughter’s eyes.

  “Mr. Avakian,” she said, “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but this is pathetic.”

  It was Elah’s turn to lift a brow. She was in denial; that much was obvious. But she’d chosen to confront him directly, insult him, in fact, rather than try to find a way to weasel out like her father would have. Quite unexpected.

  “It’s a pretty little book, I’ll grant you that, but it’s filled with lies and innuendo. And you want me to marry a stranger, and a mean one at that, based on it? Your office is lovely, and this whole little performance has been nothing if not committed, but you are cracked. We’re done here.”

  Elah turned his attention to the councilman. “Would you like to speak to your daughter? Inveigh against the lies in my ‘pretty little book’? Or would you rather come clean, finally, if only to her? Confess to the years of extortion, political corruption, and my personal favorite: high-stakes gambling—everything from private card games to secret underground fights? What’ll it be, Councilman?”

  He managed to keep his voice calm, but anger at the thought of all the lives this man had destroyed propelled the blood through his body and with it, a faint hint of triumph. He’d indulge that later, but for now, he needed to make sure the first step of his plan came together and to do that, he needed to keep his cool.

  “It’ll only be—” The councilman stopped abruptly and cleared his throat and then looked at his daughter and started again, this time stronger. “It’ll only be for a while. I’ll get it all sorted, and this won’t even be a memory, Lottie.”

  This time, Charlotte couldn’t control her reaction, and her eyes widened in disbelief and a low, strangled sigh of surprise emerged from her throat. Trufant looked at her, and from across the table, Elah could practically smell the desperation rolling off the man.

  “Please�
��” the councilman implored.

  “Is it true?” Her voice had gone higher, and he sensed how frantic she was, could see her burning desire to hold on to the world as it had existed before she’d entered this room.

  “Baby girl, it’s complicated. I can explain, but we can’t get into it now. I’ll tell you everything later.”

  Before his eyes, Elah watched her disbelief evolve to shock and then to acceptance, all in an instant. He almost felt sorry for her.

  Almost.

  “I need to speak to Mr. Avakian alone for a moment, Daddy.”

  “Honey, there’s no—”

  “Just a moment.”

  Her tone was firm, and her father complied, standing and walking toward the office door. Elah pushed the intercom button on the phone at the conference table.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Amanda, escort the councilman to the reception area, please.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  A few moments later, she entered, and then immediately left with the councilman. Now Elah and Charlotte were alone. During the brief interlude, she had composed herself, and now she held his gaze, a toughness and fortitude in her expression that he hadn’t noticed before.

  “What do you hope to gain from this?”

  “Maybe I just want a wife.”

  “Ha-ha. I doubt you’d need to go to such dramatic lengths, and I’m in no mood for bullshit.” She stuttered over the last word, and he wondered if it was because of the swearing or the tension of the situation. The thought was pushed aside as she continued, “Answer my questions, or I will leave.”

  “You’d do that to your father?”

  “I would.”

  She didn’t hesitate, and he believed her. Charlotte wasn’t what he’d expected, and she was keeping things interesting. He hadn’t yet determined if that was a good thing or not.

  “Fine. Your father is scum, worse than scum. One of my missions in life has been to see him ruined, to systematically take everything he has until he’s left with nothing.”

  “And how does marrying me help this grand plan?”

  He shrugged. “He’s very fond of you, and I can imagine he finds you a useful mascot to parade around, uses you to remind everyone what a great family man he is. Taking you, and thus that option, seemed a great place to start.”

  She laughed, the sound as rich and pleasant as it had been that first day, and he felt himself uncharacteristically wanting to smile.

  “I’m glad you’re finding humor in this situation,” he said.

  “I try to look on the bright side,” she returned.

  Then she sobered, and her gaze hardened.

  “So I’m collateral damage.”

  “Think of it however you’d like.”

  “And what do you plan to do with me when I’m your wife?”

  What did he plan to do with her? He hadn’t gotten that far. The idea of co-opting the councilman’s daughter had been so tantalizing that he hadn’t gone much beyond that first step. But she’d handled herself well today, and he imagined a situation where she could potentially be an asset.

  “I haven’t decided yet, but you seem pretty quick on your feet, like you can handle a room.”

  She nodded her agreement.

  He said the first thing that popped into his mind. “Maybe you could help with some of the more social aspects of my business.”

  She tilted her head sharply, and for some reason he found himself rushing to reassure her.

  “No, nothing like that. My lawyer tells me I need to socialize more, build bridges—”

  “I can’t imagine that would be a problem for you,” she said sarcastically.

  He scoffed. “It is. You could help with that. Go as my representative or accompany me to the events that I attend. And,” he said as the thought continued to develop, “your father, for some incomprehensible reason, still has a good reputation, as I’m sure you do by extension. It couldn’t hurt.”

  “I assume you’re a successful businessman.”

  “I am.”

  “And yet you couldn’t think of a less complicated way to get a plus one. Unbelievable.”

  “As I said, the plus one is just a perk. What I want is your father’s head, but I can live with just destroying his life.”

  “So what’s to stop me from marrying you and then divorcing you and taking half of what I assume is your sizable fortune?” she asked, her eyes taking on a trace of haughty mirth.

  “Nothing but the ironclad prenuptial agreement you’re going to sign,” he said as he slid another set of documents to her.

  She looked them over quickly, undoubtedly noting that according to the papers, she’d be entitled to nothing from Elah, not even customary spousal support.

  “I could argue duress,” she said, “claim that you coerced me—which you are doing, by the way—and get some sympathetic judge to rip it up.”

  He shrugged. “Unlikely, but you can pretend that it would work if it makes you feel better, even try to do so if you want. I’m a very patient man, Charlotte, and I’d have no compunction spending whatever amount it took to keep you tied up in court for the next forty years if need be.”

  “I’m sure you would,” she said, her eyes going bright with what he’d call grudging respect. “And what do I, what does my father, get out of this…plan?”

  “His freedom.”

  She pursed her lips, her skepticism clear.

  “You read the report. You may think it’s full of lies, but there’s enough there to bury him. I’ll keep this document out of the hands of law enforcement in exchange for your commitment.”

  “And why should I trust you?” she asked, her eyes darkening in a way that seemed to hint at something deeper than the current topic.

  “Because you don’t have a choice,” he finally said. “And because I’m not like your father. I keep my word. Always,” he said emphatically, some part of him feeling compelled to highlight his honesty, make her see that he might be many things but he wasn’t a liar, that she could in fact trust him.

  Her eyes flickered, softened a bit, but then went distant again. “I don’t believe those lies.”

  “As I said, your choice.”

  “I’m going to fight you every step of the way.”

  “I welcome the challenge.”

  She grabbed a pen that had been left on the table and quickly signed the documents. Then she looked up at him, put her hands on the table, and leaned forward, her face taking on a determined edge that, at this point in their brief acquaintance, didn’t surprise him at all.

  “Fine. Get on with it,” she said, her lips set in a firm line.

  “Amanda, please return the councilman, and have Judge Hines escorted up,” Elah said into the intercom.

  Her spine stiffened at the words, and her face flushed deep red underneath the brown of her skin, giving her an almost otherworldly glow that he found far more appealing than he should.

  “You weren’t kidding about today?” she asked.

  “I don’t kid.”

  She leaned back, and he could see the resolve leaving her with every second that passed.

  “So romantic. Just what I’d always dreamed of,” she finally said in a faraway voice.

  ••••

  This was not how Lottie had anticipated her day would turn out. After this meeting with her dad, she was going to grab a bite to eat with her best friend Isis, run down to the center and do a little paperwork, and make it home in time for the new season of her favorite TV show, the one about the guy from the past and a modern policewoman investigating paranormal crimes.

  She guessed that plan was scuttled. She’d left her purse in the car, but remembered she had her phone in her pants pocket, so she pulled it out and texted Isis to cancel dinner. Her friend would die when Lottie explained what had happened, but as she hadn’t quite come to grips with it either, she figured that explanation could wait.

  “Calling for rescue?” Avakian asked, now from his perch at h
is large desk. He’d left her alone at the conference table, but it hadn’t made a difference. She was still acutely aware of him and getting more anxious by the second. She hoped her father and the…judge showed up soon.

  “Charlotte,” he said, voice not sharp exactly, just different, set in a tone that made her look up almost involuntarily. When she turned to glance at him, he said, “I asked you a question.”

  “And I very deliberately ignored it. Welcome to marriage, honey,” she said in her cheeriest voice and with her brightest smile.

  He did not seem amused. Strange, but nothing about his outward appearance changed, yet Charlotte could sense his displeasure.

  “Not this one. You’ll respect me, and I’ll respect you.”

  “Except for that whole forcing-me-to-marry-you thing?”

  “You can blame me if you want, but you’re making a choice. Right here, right now, you’re choosing this. And you can leave at any time.”

  “And see my father in federal orange for the rest of his life.”

  “Exactly. It’s up to you. But I won’t be disrespected.” His voice went hard, cold, and she saw hints of the man others claimed him to be. It was a departure from what she’d thought she saw at the hospital. Yes, he’d been cold, but in the detachment there had been glimmers of curiosity, traces of something human. But that was entirely absent from the implacable figure that she confronted now. He held her gaze with his, those black eyes still, until she nodded.

  “Fine. I had plans. I obviously need to cancel them now.”

  He flashed a half smile that faded almost as soon as it appeared, but the expression, however brief, was so unexpected it caught her off guard.

  “Was that so hard?”

  She narrowed her eyes, the anger she’d kept tightly at bay at risk of being loosed.