"Why am I here anyway?" I blurted out. My question was met with deafening silence for a minute.
"You are mine, Abigail. You are mine." Carter uttered calmly.
Raising a brow, I chuckled completely perplexed. "Excuse me?"
Carter retired to his seat at the table. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the ice bowl, opened it up, and poured himself a drink before answering. "You heard me, Miss Abigail. You're mine? Yes, you are mine. What part of the word do you not understand?"
I stood with weakened shoulders, staring daggers. "What do you and my father have to do with each other?"
Carter gently put three cubes of ice in his glass. "Here's a simple way to put it. Your father took some money from me and failed to return the sum as we agreed. You were his collateral, that's why you are here. Need a Spanish interpretation? I know a few other languages."
