Chapter 0039

A smile spreads over my face and I resist the urge to throw my arms around him, so thrilled am I. But, I

have more questions.

“Why?” I ask, a little breathless now. “Why did you do this for me?”

Kent leans back against the low wall. “Because I could tell you were miserable, Fay. You might not

believe it, but I don’t take pleasure singularly in making people unhappy. I want you to be safe, for

Daniel’s sake, as his future bride,” he looks at me carefully, “but there’s no reason you should be so

sad about this life.”

I look down at the floor of the stall. Have I been that obvious? I knew that he noticed, but I wasn’t aware

that his perception ran so deep.

“Also,” he says, standing up straight again and putting a finger under my chin to lift my face up. “You

have been a good girl, Fay. I have noticed. No more illicit trips to the basement, no more obstinate

disobedience.” He smirks, then. “Or at least, not much.”

I keep my face expressionless, not really wanting to tell him that I wasn’t being good for his sake. There

just hadn’t been a lot of opportunity for rebellion in the last few weeks. Or I might have taken it, for the

sake of variety.

“When those in my care are good,” he says carefully, studying my face closely, “they get presents.

When they are bad, they get punished.” He lowers his face, bringing it closer to mine.

My gaze shifts to his mouth, watching it form his words. “I’d recommend, Fay,” he says softly, “that you

stay on my good side. Then you can have more rewards.”

A chill runs down my spine and a darker part of me – one that hasn’t raised its head for awhile –

wonders which one, really, I want more.

The horse nickers softly, nudging at the pocket of Kent’s coat. Kent turns his attention away from me,

chuckling. “All right, boy, you’ve found me out,” he says, reaching into the pocket and producing two

sugar cubes. He holds them out to the horse, who eats them eagerly from his palm.

Then, Kent produces two more sugar cubes and hands them to me. “To get your friendship off right.”

Kent takes a few steps back as I feed the horse, enjoying the feel of his coarse little mouth hairs

against my palm. When he’s finished eating, I go back to petting him, marveling at this beautiful

creature. I can’t believe that he’s mine.

A few minutes pass in silence as Kent lets me get to know my new friend. Then, I hear his voice again.

“What will you name him?” Kent asks, still watching me from the doorway.

“Hmm,” I say, considering it, looking at the horse. Then, I decide. “Heathcliff,” I say.

Kent laughs at me and I turn to give him another little glare. “What? You don’t like it? What’s wrong with

it?”

“Such an ugly name,” he says, but there’s no real bite in his words, “for such a beautiful horse. Why did

you pick that?”

“Because,” I say, turning to Heathcliff and smiling lovingly into his face. “Whatever souls are made of,

his and mine are the same,” I say, brushing his forelock away from his rich brown eyes. As if he

understands me, Heathcliff presses his nose to my chest.

A beat passes and then I look back to Kent, curious as to why he doesn’t tease me further.

“Well well,” he says slowly. “The young lady has read her Brontë, at least. Though I do wonder if such a

great passion is a bit wasted on a horse.”

I blink at him, shocked, really, that he understood my reference. I wouldn’t have thought Wuthering

Heights was on the reading list for the Mafia King. Then, I speak without thinking. “Well, I suppose that

until a greater passion reveals itself, I will spend all my love on him.”

Kent lifts himself from the wall, standing solidly in the stable doorway with his arms crossed. “I wonder

what my son would say to that,” he says, low and soft.

I blink at him, panicking suddenly as I realize my mistake. I have just tacitly admitted that there is no

passion between me and Daniel.

Neither of us say a word for minute, but then Kent turns away. “Come,” he says, looking back towards

the parking lot. “That’s enough for now. You can come back in the morning, I’ll have my trainer here.

We’ll see whether or not you can ride.”

I take a quick moment to lay a kiss in the whorl of hair right in the middle of Heathcliff’s forehead. “I’ll be

back soon,” I whisper to him. “I’ll bring you apples.” He knickers in friendly response as I bolt the stable

door and hurry after Kent.

I stare at the barn until it fades from my sight. Then, I turn back to the front of the car, steeling myself

for the return to Kent’s world. Because tonight, I know, he and my father have arranged something else

for me.

Perhaps the horse was just a way to butter me up, get me on Kent’s good side before the real trial.