“I need to talk to you,” Daphne said quietly. She jerked her head toward an alcove, and Gabriella warily followed, standing near a suit of armor. “I know you’re here to gloat, but nothing will come of this,” Gabriella insisted. “Daddy isn’t going to prison.” As she tugged her expensive mink coat tighter around her shoulders, vulnerability—and fear—flashed across her features. For a moment, Daphne almost felt sorry for her. “Gabriella, your father is guilty,” she said gently. “Who said anything about guilt or innocence? He won’t go to jail because no one would ever send him there.”
