Chapter 10 The princess' gambit

"Chloe, where is she?"

Nova's heart hammered against her ribs as she listened to her father's frantic voice through the phone. Chloe's hesitant replies were barely audible, but the rising panic was unmistakable.

"Was that my daughter on the phone, Chloe? That was her, wasn't it?" Dominic boomed, his voice tight with barely suppressed fury.

"Yes sir," Chloe's voice trembled.

"Now tell me, where is she?"

"I... I don't know exactly where she is," Chloe stammered.

Nova tensed as a growl erupted from her father. And then, in a desperate attempt to appease him, Chloe blurted out the name that had been hanging heavy in the air. "Bentley Sterling. That was the name she called."

The name hung in the air like a curse word. A sharp intake of breath followed, then a torrent of unexpected words. "Bentley what? That little boy whose father is a... a riffraff. A self-made buffoon, a nouveau riche upstart," he paced frantically in the room. "Oh Nova, how did she... How did she find herself with the Sterlings? Those buffoons are my rivals."

Then he turned to Chloe again and began to pepper her with questions. "I need an address now, Chloe. Anything at all. What does the house look like? Any landmarks mentioned? Something? Anything?"

Chloe, however, swore on every holy object she could think of that she didn't know more. "I don't know sir. She gave me no address. I don't know where she is."

Finally, frustration boiling over, Dominic snatched the phone from Chloe's grasp.

"Nova!" he roared, the phone speaker snapping with the force of his voice. Nova flinched, and with a trembling finger, she ended the call.

Panic nagged at her. She was cut off from Chloe, her trusted lifeline to the outside world. Despite her anger towards her father, a sliver of worry burned in her chest. Dominic could be many things – overbearing, suffocating, a control freak – but one thing he wasn't was cruel. He would never deliberately hurt a member of his family, and Chloe, for all intents and purposes, fell into that category. No, Dominic's desperation was genuine. He would stop at nothing to get her back, and that could mean trouble – and soon.

She needed to warn Bentley. He might have been an enigma wrapped in a riddle, but he seemed capable of handling himself. Besides, this was partly his fault for keeping her locked up in this cage of a home. Taking a deep breath, Nova marched out of her room and headed straight for the study. Or wherever it was he was.

She found Bentley in the same position she had left him – sitting behind the massive desk, a frown etched on his face. This time, Franco was not with him. His gaze snapped up as she entered, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features.

"What is it now, Miss Sinclair?" he drawled, his voice laced with a barely concealed impatience.

"It's about the phone call," she announced, her voice firm despite the tremor in her stomach. "My father knows I'm here. Well, he doesn't exactly know this place but he knows that I'm with you. He caught my maid making the phonecall and... He just knows I'm with you and it won't be long before he finds me."

Bentley's brow furrowed. For a moment, his eyes were unreadable, then a glint of something akin to annoyance flickered across them. "You wanted a phone, you got one," he stated, his voice devoid of warmth. "Now you have the consequences."

Nova gritted her teeth. "This isn't a consequence, it's a disaster waiting to happen. My father is going to be here any minute, and trust me, you don't want to deal with him in his current state."

Bentley leaned back in his chair, a predatory look in his eyes. "And what, pray tell, do you propose I do? Should I roll out the red carpet for this... 'Dominic Sinclair' of yours?"

Nova let out a frustrated sigh. This man was as infuriating as he was powerful. But right now, she needed him on her side. "Look," she said, trying to keep her voice steady, "I don't like this situation any more than you do. But we need a plan. We need to figure out a way to handle this before my father shows up and blows a gasket."

Bentley steepled his fingers, his eyes narrowed in thought. The silence stretched, thick with tension. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and dangerous. "Very well, Miss Sinclair, I'll handle it," he conceded.

"I really prefer if you call me Nova. It's Nova. T for thank you."

Bentley scoffed. As much as she was annoying, she was pretty funny. "Okay, Nova, like I said before, I'll handle it. You can go back to your room now."

Nova stared at him, bewildered. He just planned to... handle it? A frustrated sigh escaped her lips. "Is that it?"

Bentley met her gaze, a hint of amusement dancing in his dark eyes. "That's it," he repeated, his confidence bordering on arrogance.

Nova couldn't help but bristle. This was her father they were talking about, a powerful man in his own right. Did Bentley truly believe he could face him down alone? Or maybe, a more terrifying thought, was he simply dismissing her concerns?

"There's this look in your eyes that makes it look like you're taking me for a joke," she spat. She took a step closer, her hand instinctively reaching out to him. Her fingers brushed against his arm as she pleaded, "Please, I don't want to go back home. Not like this. Don't let him take me. Please."

Bentley's eyes traced down to her hand resting on his arm, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features. He gently, but firmly, removed his hand from beneath hers. "Miss Sinclair," he began, his voice even and controlled, "this is my house. I can accommodate whomever I see fit."

His words were a slap in the face. "It's not about who you can accommodate," Nova countered, her voice cracking with frustration, "it's about me. I don't belong here, not like this. He'll use every lawyer he has to get me back."

"And you," Bentley continued, ignoring her outburst, "are an adult. Legally, he has no claim to you." He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers once more. "Furthermore, the signed contract you agreed to provides a very clear path to dismissal should you become... inconvenient."

Yes, that's right. The contract.

"And if he doesn't... accept dismissal?" she stammered, a jolt of panic flared in Nova's chest, creeping into her voice.

"Then," Bentley replied, his voice devoid of warmth, "we sue him for trespassing. He'll have a difficult time arguing his case if it's clear you're here willingly."

Nova felt a wave of helplessness wash over her. Despite everything, it was still her father they were talking about. What kind of daughter would she be if things escalated that far. She loved her father very much even though she doesn't agree with everything he does.

Taking a deep breath, she straightened her spine and met Bentley's gaze. "You know what? I'll just leave you to it." she said, her voice surprisingly steady. "Although," she rolled her eyes before continuing, "I'd prefer if everything just ends here. There's no need using anybody. Unless he hurts you of course. Cos my father can never hurt me. You know what I mean?"

A slow smile spread across Bentley's face, a smile that sent chills down Nova's spine. "Perhaps," he conceded, his voice a low rumble. "But make no mistake, Miss Sinclair, this changes nothing. You are still bound by the terms of our agreement."

"Yes sir."

"Say that again."