Deadly Vows (Lizzie Grace 6)

“Not my future.”

“Part of our deal was you undergoing another audit, remember. Depending on what the results are, it will probably change your status here in Canberra.”

“I don’t give a fuck about my status, and neither should you.”

“Like it or not, Elizabeth, you are a Marlowe. That comes

with certain responsibilities—”

“Actually, my legal name is Grace. I left the Marlowe name and all the shit it entails behind long ago. Once the annulment is signed, I want nothing more to do with you or that damn name.”

There was a long pause. “I understand.”

A smile twisted my lips. I knew that tone. Knew it meant that while he did indeed understand, he had no intention of letting the point—or me—go.

“Where and when do we meet?” I said. “I refuse to fly to Canberra, but I’m willing to meet you halfway.”

“Not alone, you won’t be,” Aiden murmured.

I flashed him a quick, tense smile as my father said, “There is a café in Albury called Whitefin. We shall meet there tomorrow at two, if that’s convenient.”

“A café is hardly the ideal spot to sign legal documents. Besides, I have a business to run.”

“I’m sure you could close—”

“I’m sure I can’t.”

“I see.” His annoyance echoed, and it was an incredibly satisfying sensation. “What do you suggest, then?”

“I’m sure you know a magistrate or two in the Albury–Wodonga area. Get one of them to hold a late evening session in his court or office or whatever.”

“Fine.” His tone suggested it was anything but. “Would six tomorrow evening be suitable?”

“Perfectly.” I paused. “What guarantee do I have that Clayton won’t retaliate against us the minute Belle removes her spell?”

“He won’t. That I promise.”

My father might be the ultimate politician, but when he gave his word, he kept it. The vague sense of foreboding I’d gotten when I’d been talking to Mom stirred again. I might well want to be rid of my father, but I didn’t actually want him dead.

“Just be wary of him. He’s not in a good frame of mind, and he might well take his anger out on you—”

“Hardly.” His tone was contemptuous. “Aside from the fact he hasn’t the power, he’s well aware such an attack would harm his social standing.”

“From what I’ve heard, he has little enough of that left to worry about.”

“Then you are misinformed. He still has plenty of allies here in Canberra.”

Would those allies protect him no matter what? Would they shield him from the full force of the law if he did succeed in harming either Belle or me? Or would it all be brushed under the proverbial rug and quickly forgotten about? I’d pretty much bet on the latter, especially if the Black Lantern Society decided not to get involved.

But I didn’t press the point. He obviously wouldn’t listen, no matter what I said.

“Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow evening.”

With that, I hung up.

And wasn’t entirely sure what I felt. I’d been dreaming of an annulment and escaping Clayton for so long; now it was almost within my grasp, some small part of me refused to believe it was actually happening. Of course, a major part of that was the conviction that Clayton wasn’t about to let Belle or me escape without us paying the price.

But if we survived that—survived him—then we could finally live our lives as we wanted rather than constantly looking over our shoulders, always on the run, always fearful of being discovered.