are in love with him?” It wasn’t concern she heard in her father’s voice, rather, a cold curiosity.
“Honestly, Dad, I’m much more concerned with practicalities than I am with love. But I am very fond of him.”
Her father chuckled. “Neatly done, Victoria. If you had said that you are madly in love with him I would have known you were lying.”
Her father’s words disconcerted her somewhat. She had gone out of her way to change. To learn from her mistakes. To think with her head, rather than letting her heart lead. Even so, it did hurt a little bit to hear someone else’s assessment of her and her character.
But then, considering she had enlisted the services of a matchmaker to help her find a suitable and dispassionate marriage, she supposed she couldn’t blame her father. No, the blame rested squarely with herself. The thing was, she really didn’t care much about love, unless she was thinking in terms of avoiding it.
“Right. Well. Not lying. Are you concerned for my well-being...or...?”
“You have a tendency to land yourself on the wrong side of men. Are you sure I won’t have another scandal to clean up in the next few months?”
Shame, anger, sadness, threatened to choke her. “Well, I don’t plan on it.”
“Then what are you planning? What are your goals concerning London Diva?”
Her throat constricted, drying. This was her moment. Much earlier than she had expected to have it. She hadn’t intended to say anything until she was able to present him with a document stating legal ownership. But of course he would know that Dmitri was the one who now held ownership, and of course he would be suspicious of the link. She simply wasn’t capable of playing stupid.
“My plans are to return London Diva to its rightful place.”
There was a brief pause. “We’ll see.” No vote of confidence. No request she rethink an engagement purely for the sake of the family business. Nothing more. He simply rang off.
His response wasn’t surprising. She should expect his indifference and lack of confidence at this point. But it still hurt. Every time.
“I’m going to fix it,” she said, the silence of her bedroom only slightly less responsive than her father.
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