Millicent
Abel was spiraling, working himself into a fury, and I couldn't get a word in edgewise. Every time I tried to speak, he cut me off with another accusation, another assumption.
"Tell me something," he continued, voice dropping dangerously low. "When we were together, when I was inside you, were you thinking about what information you could extract? When you screamed my name, was it real or just part of the performance?"
The crudeness made me flinch. "How can you even ask me that?"
"How can I not? Everything between us is built on lies! Every moment is tainted by the fact that you're..." He stopped, a new realization dawning. "You're his daughter, aren't you? That's why Fiona was so f*****g smug. You're Patrick Otto's daughter."
I couldn't deny it. My silence was answer enough
