James and Nix are already sitting at the dining room table, though there isn’t any food laid out. I take a seat at the far end, as far away from James as I can get, and he doesn’t seem to care. He, too, looks just the same as ever and sounds just the same. Like nothing truly evil took place yesterday.

“That wasn’t very nice of you,” he murmurs, folding his hands on top of the table. “Calling your grandmother.”

How the hell does he know I did that? What, is he tracking my phone somehow? I don’t even know how it’s possible, but it has to be, or else how would he know? I was speaking so softly that Grandma couldn’t hear me. How could he? This is a wealthy, powerful man. For all I know, he installed something on my phone before the wedding. He might even have done it through our account with the phone company. I don’t have the first clue.

“Our business is our business,” he continues, speaking over my internal questions. “That means what happens behind these walls stays here. It does not leave this house. Do you understand?”

Do I? I certainly understand why he wouldn’t want me telling anybody about what goes on, but that doesn’t mean I understand why it’s happening. He’s waiting for an answer, so all I do is nod, staring down at the tablecloth rather than look at him.

“Have you ever heard of a conservatorship?” he continues. “I have already spoken with your mother on the topic. I would like to apply for one in order to take control of your future going forward.”

That surprises me enough that I look up at him. “Wait. I don’t understand. What does that mean?”

His indulgent smile turns my stomach. “It’s all a bunch of legal mumbo jumbo,” he explains, “I wouldn’t expect you to understand all of it. Suffice it to say, a conservatorship gives me control over your finances, your educational decisions, everything. Every decision you make would instead be made by me. Where you live. Whether or not you work and where you work. All of your healthcare decisions, as well. All of it would be overseen by me. You would make no decision without my consent.”

I would be completely under his control. Why is he doing this? Why me? “You don’t have to do that,” I whisper. “I’m not unstable or anything like that. I won’t do anything harmful to myself. I’ve never even been in trouble. Why would you—”