Page 86 of Shy Girls Can't Date Bad Boys

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“Yes, you’re my little girl.”

I retch. “Don’t demean me. I’m more than just your daughter.”

Dad sighs. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“You haven’t been protecting me. You’ve been shutting me out.”

“Vanessa.” His voice turns stern. “Don’t be like this.”

“Why shouldn’t I? I’m not the child you want to talk with.”

“You need to stop acting like this. I’ve never played favorites with you and Ash.”

A laugh erupts from me before I can catch it.

“What has happened to you?” Dad says in a low tone. “You’ve never acted this way before.”

“Because I’m finally saying what’s on my mind. I’m not being your good girl who solely goes to the country club and plans parties.”

“Vanessa, I know you do more than that.”

“Do you? Because you’ve never taken me to work with you.”

“I didn’t think you were suited to it.”

“No, it’s because I’m not your son.”

Tears fill my eyes, and I quickly wipe them away, because this is too stupid to cry over.

“Maybe I should’ve taken you to the office,” Dad murmurs.

My heart pounds. “What was that?”

“Then maybe you’d know more about The Scorpions.”

“What does that mean?”

“They’ve disrupted work at our manufacturing plants in Logan’s Point,” Dad replies. “They’re menaces.”

“This is why you want me to stay away from Dax? Because you lost some efficiency in your factories?”

“No. I want you away from him because he’s a gang member. If you spend time with him, he’ll corrupt you.”

I groan, pinching the bridge of my nose. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Vanessa, come to my study. We’ll discuss this in person.”

“No, I can’t. I can’t be around you tonight.”

“It’s non-negotiable. I need to see you in the next ten minutes.”

“No.” I stomp my foot as my clammy hand squeezes the phone. “There are countless bedrooms in this manor. I’ll find the one farthest from your wing and camp there. Just leave me alone.”

I end the call before he can get in another demand. I pant heavily, staring at my phone, and my body fuels with adrenaline.

Holy cow. I just told off my dad.

I wipe the back of my hand over my forehead, collecting beads of sweat.