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There was nothing personal in the words, which somehow made them worse. Dante wasn't asking whether I'd screwed up whatever was happening between Max and me because he was nosy. He was reminding me that we were in the middle of a playoff series, and anything that affected either of us had the potential to affect everyone.

As if I needed another reason not to tell Max.

My morning managed to get worse when Dad called during the break before video.

I nearly ignored it, but the memory of the message waiting on my phone stopped me. I stepped into an empty corridor before answering.

“What?”

“That's no way to greet your father.”

His voice hadn't changed, and that was the first thing that struck me even though I had no idea why I'd expected it to. He sounded exactly as he always did—calm, faintly amused, and completely certain that whatever happened next would happen on his terms.

“What do you want?”

“I thought I'd made that clear.”

“Five times the usual amount isn't happening by midnight.”

The words came out more confidently than I felt, and Dad was silent just long enough to make me wonder whether I'd surprised him.

“You can afford it.”

“That doesn't mean I can move that much money that quickly. I can get you the usual amount today and figure out the rest, but—”

“No.”

My fingers tightened around the phone.

Dad didn't shout. He rarely needed to because he'd learned a long time ago that quiet certainty worked far better on me than anger.

“You've had enough from me.”

“And you've had a very successful career because I've kept my mouth shut.”

A bitter laugh escaped before I could stop it. “You've charged me for keeping your mouth shut.”

“And you've paid.”

There it was, the simple, ugly truth of our relationship.

I could call it blackmail, extortion, or any other word that made me feel less pathetic, but for years Dad had named a price, and I'd paid it because the alternative terrified me more.

“You're not getting five times the amount every month.”

“I didn't say I was.”

“Then what the fuck is this?”

He paused before answering, “Insurance.”

I pushed away from the wall. “Against what?”

“Things changing.”

I knew before he said anything else, and really, maybe I'd known from the second I'd read his first message last night.

“Leave Max out of this.”