God, I love her.
But I stop myself because he doesn’t deserve to know what that feels like, the warmth she brings into every corner of my life, the way she makes even the darkest parts of me feel bright.
My father narrows his eyes, waiting for me to break first, but I don’t. I just sit there in silence, and the truth that settles in my chest is a secret I’ll never give him the satisfaction of hearing.
He sighs and then shakes his head, like I’m not worth the effort. ‘Back to business. Since Davies has practically torched what was left of Peregrine, we’ll have to change tack. The Cavendish Group could still be a possibility. Or maybe the Watanabe Conglomerate – if their daughter’s still single.’
He says it like he’s browsing a menu.
My last bit of tolerance I have towards my father snaps.
‘Are you even listening to yourself?’ I ask. ‘You’re just going to line up the next heiress and hope that this one sticks? Is that really the plan?’
He looks at me like he’s seeing me for the first time – which, to be fair, maybe he is. I’ve spent the better part of two decades trying to make myself as unnoticeable as possible to avoid his ire. But everything’s changed now. Maybe it’s the months I’ve spent with Imani and the realisation thatthere’s a version of life that doesn’t involve being bulldozed and bullied by this man. Or maybe I’m just tired.
I push back from the chair so suddenly it scrapes loudly against the floor. My father’s head snaps up, startled, and I savour the rare moment I’ve actually managed to throw him off balance.
‘I’m done,’ I say. ‘I can’t do this anymore.’
My father blinks at me in silence for several long seconds.
‘I quit,’ I say when the silence stretches on. ‘The company. The family. I don’t want anything to do with any of it.’
When he finally finds his voice, the words come out as a sneer. ‘If you walk out now, don’t even think about coming back. You’re finished. You won’t have a penny to your name, not a single asset, not a single share. Nothing. Do you understand what that means?’
I shrug, because, honestly, what else is left to take? ‘I’d rather have nothing than sell out for you again.’
His face goes red, then white, then a weird shade of purple I don’t even have a name for. But I don’t wait for his next threat. I turn, spine straight and pulse hammering, and walk out without looking back.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONEImani
It feels like the world has imploded around me.
Every channel, every notification, every news alert – it’s all Peregrine Airways. The headlines are screaming about fraud investigations, shareholder outrage, potential criminal charges. Photos of my father looking like he’s aged twenty years overnight, paired with grainy shots of me from some event months ago, are slapped under dramatic headlines likeTHE FALL OF AN EMPIRE.
My phone hasn’t stopped vibrating since the news broke. Everyone wants to know what the hell is going on and what’s going to happen to the company, and I don’t know how to tell them that I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to my father since hanging up on his call in the Seychelles, and I have no plans on doing so any time soon. I meant what I said when I told him that this wasn’t my fault and it wasn’t my problem to fix.
Still, the guilt settles in anyway.
Peregrine Airways has been looming over me since the day I was born and now I’m just… what? Walking away from it? Turning my back on it while it crashes and burns around me?
The thought unsettles me more than I want to admit. Peregrine Airways has always been the constant force in my life. It’s been my family’s legacy, my safety net,andmy cage. Without it, I don’t really know who I am. But even beneath the flash of panic that’s started to spark up inside me, I can’t pretend that I don’t feel a flicker of relief.
I’ve always had money, connections and comfort, but I’ve never really had a choice. Every decision I’ve made has come with strings attached. Now, for once, there’s nothing tying me down.
I have no idea what I’m going to do with this new-found freedom, but I do know that I’m not going to waste it.
My phone vibrates again. I glance down and the notification that pops up on the screen brings an automatic smile to my face.
Asher
I’m downstairs. Can you buzz me up?
I immediately run to the door and hit the button to let him in. By the time he reaches my floor, my heart’s already doing its best impression of a drumline. I pull open the door before he even has a chance to knock.
He looks tired. Exhausted, even. For a split second I wonder if he’s changed his mind. About me. About all of this. Maybe the news cycle finally caught up with him and he’s realised hitching himself to a sinking legacy isn’t as appealing when you’re not contractually obligated to do it. But then his eyes find mine and suddenly some of the tension drains out of him. His jaw unclenches, his shoulders drop, and there’s this tiny, barely-there smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth. Like just seeing me is enough to convince him that none of the rest of the bullshit matters for a little while.
I step back, and he steps in.
