Chris was in with the Carringtons. That did not make them bad people, per se … it did. It made them horrible people, even if he denied it to the grave. It just meant they were … complicated.

“You can keep your child,” he said, confidently, calmly, eager to help get her off his case. “You will more than have the means.”

At first, it was difficult to tell if he heard the last part. The fear that took over him was not prominent. It did not widen his eyes, nor cause a visible start. But for someone searching for her target to hit: his throat bobbed, and his skin gleamed perspiration. He leaned in, gloved hand smoothing her arm as he murmured back low.

“As your husband and owner of the Diamond Pony,” he forced himself to smile against her cheek, “I could pass you around at a premium. I could have you declared unfit and treat your child tenfold as you treat me.”

Zechariah felt nauseous even before the threats left his mouth. Chris’ spirit smiled over him. He tucked her blonde hair behind her ear, visible gestures as gentle as his words were cruel.

“Are you certain this is the precedent you wish to set, my dear?”