Chapter 4 4

Arthur loomed over her, a tower of expensive wool and unchecked authority. He smelled of cigars and old money-a scent that used to make Kala feel safe, but now just made her nauseous.

"In this house," Arthur said, pointing a finger inches from her nose, "nobody defies me."

Kala didn't flinch. She didn't blink. She tilted her head back slightly, exposing her throat, not in submission, but in challenge.

"Respect is a two-way street, Arthur."

The use of his first name hit him like a physical blow. His eyes widened, the pupils contracting into pinpricks of rage.

"Kala!" Doloris gasped, clutching her pearls as if Kala had just pulled a knife. "He is your father! Have you lost your mind?"

Arthur let out a darkly amused huff. "It seems the foster system turned you into a savage. I should have expected this."

He turned away, walking toward the window, then spun back, his face twisted. "You have two choices. Get on your knees right now and beg your sister for forgiveness, or I make a call to St. Mary's."

Kala's heart skipped a beat. St. Mary's.

It wasn't a church. It was a high-end "wellness center" on the coast. In reality, it was a dumping ground where the elite stored their inconvenient relatives. A place of sedatives, padded rooms, and doctors who wrote whatever diagnosis the check-writer requested.

In her past life, the mere mention of St. Mary's would have sent her into a panic attack. She would have crawled on the floor to avoid it.

But fear, when pushed past the point of death, transforms into calculation.

Kala walked past Arthur. She moved to the single wingback chair adjacent to him-his favorite reading chair-and sat down. She crossed her legs, smoothing the silk of her robe. The leather was cool against her skin. She was claiming his throne, right in front of him.

Arthur's face contorted. "Get out of my chair." His voice was low, dangerous.

He took a step forward, his hand reaching out as if to physically haul her from the seat. But he stopped. Kala's gaze met his, and it was utterly devoid of fear. It was a cold, flat, analytical stare that seemed to see right through his bluster to the anxious businessman beneath.

"You want to commit me?" Kala asked, her voice conversational. "On what grounds?"

"Emotional instability!" Arthur roared, thrown off balance by her audacity. "Violent tendencies! Destruction of property! You are clearly unwell!"

"I'm the one sitting calmly," Kala pointed out. "You are the one screaming and turning purple. If a doctor walked in right now, who do you think they would sedate?"

Arthur sputtered, his face flushing a deeper shade of crimson.

"As for violence," Kala continued, examining her fingernails, "do you have footage? A police report? Medical records of Karly's injuries?"

"We are witnesses!" Archer yelled.

Kala shifted her gaze to Archer. It was a laser-focused glare. "Did you see me push the vase, Archer? Or did you hear a crash, run into the hallway, and find Karly crying on the floor?"

Archer opened his mouth. He closed it. He looked at Karly, then back at Kala. "I... I know what you did."

"So, you didn't see it," Kala concluded.

She turned back to Arthur. "If you send me to St. Mary's, I will demand a lawyer. I will petition for an independent psychiatric evaluation. And I will make sure the press knows that the Kensington family is locking up their biological daughter to protect the fragile ego of their adopted one."

She paused, letting the words hang in the air. She remembered the frantic calls from her past life, the hushed, panicked conversations about a deal gone wrong. The Zurich merger. It was in its infancy now, a secret known only to the board. A secret that would, in the future, nearly cripple them.

"Tell me, Arthur," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "How will Kensington Corp stock react to a scandal like that? 'CEO Institutionalizes Daughter in Fit of Rage.' The board is already jittery about the merger in Zurich, aren't they?"

Arthur froze.

The room went dead silent.

Kala wasn't supposed to know about the Zurich merger. She wasn't supposed to know about the board's anxiety. She was supposed to be the dumb, emotional girl who cared about lipstick and boys.

Arthur looked at her with a mixture of confusion and genuine alarm. He was a businessman first, a father second. And Kala had just placed a gun on the negotiation table.

"You are threatening me?" Arthur hissed.

"I am stating facts," Kala said, shrugging. "You care about your reputation. I care about my freedom. It seems we have a stalemate."

Karly, watching from the sofa, realized she was losing the room. The spotlight was shifting. Arthur was calculating, not punishing.

She let out a low, pained moan. Her hand fluttered to her chest.

"Daddy..." she wheezed.