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“I miss her too,” I managed hoarsely, reaching out to clasp my dad’s hand. His fingers closed around mine, and he briefly squeezed his eyes shut. “I love you, Daddy.”
His grip tightened in a pulse of warm comfort. “I love you too.” He scrubbed at his red-rimmed eyes with his free hand and drew in a shuddering breath. “Sorry, princess. I didn’t mean to get emotional. Eat your pancakes.” He released my hand and tilted his head at my untouched meal.
Dutifully, I took a bite. The syrupy sweetness was cloying on my ashen tongue, but I managed to force myself to swallow. If I just acted normal, Daddy wouldn’t be so sad. I couldn’t stand to see him hurting. For so many years, he’d done everything he could to protect me, and in turn, I’d protected him by concealing the worst of my suffering. I couldn’t bear to add to his constant pain over the loss of my mother. So, I’d endured the bullying in silence. If he knew about it—if he knew that Gavin was still messing with me—he would definitely drag me back home and keep me close to ensure my safety and happiness.
He’d never been able to understand that I couldn’t be happy when I didn’t have any freedom. Going to college and meeting my friends had been the best thing that’d ever happened to me, and it was a minor miracle that he’d allowed me to move out on my own this summer.
I forced down another bite of my pancakes, proving that I was okay. Even if it was almost painful to choke down the food.
I managed a small smile and changed the subject, my voice an octave too high as I attempted a breezy tone. “Mr. Callahan and I had a good talk yesterday. You gave me great advice.” The muscles around my mouth stretched into a strained grin. “I took responsibility for being late, and he was totally understanding. He actually praised me for my work ethic. It went way better than I ever could’ve hoped.”
Dad returned my smile, the corners of his lips twitching with the effort. “Mike’s a great guy. I’m glad that you’re on good terms. I know how hard you work, sweetheart. I don’t say it enough, but I’m proud of you.”
The lump in my throat swelled, and my eyes burned. Daddy never told me he was proud of me. Well, I could count the times he’d said it on one hand. I modeled my life choices in pursuit of making him proud; my father was a great man, and his pride meant everything to me.
“Thanks, Daddy.” My voice hitched on his name, and I quickly swiped at my eyes.
He let out a watery laugh and raked a hand through his silver-tinged copper hair, leaving the neat style uncharacteristically mussed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean for this brunch to be so emotional. Why don’t you tell me about your internship. Are you working on any good cases?”
I leapt on the change of subject, eager to talk about something normal and safe. “Well, you know I’m mostly copying files and carrying coffee, but it’s amazing being in the office, surrounded by all those brilliant legal minds. I’m so happy that I got my placement. I really hope I can work there after law school.”
His smile broadened with genuine delight. “I’m sure you will, sweetheart.”
“But I don’t want you to pull any strings,” I hastened to add. “I’m going to get there on my own merit.”
“I know that too.” His grin turned a bit wry. “You’ve always been so stubborn about being independent.”
I nodded, letting that stinging comment roll off my back. He didn’t realize it stung. I might’ve been advocating for my independence for my entire life, but he’d barely allowed me any personal freedoms. Before college, leaving the house to socialize without a chaperone of his choosing had been out of the question. Not that I had many invitations to socialize. But sometimes I wondered if I would’ve been less of a freak if I’d been allowed to integrate with my peers a bit more.
“You okay, princess?”
Damn it, I hadn’t managed to keep my expression pleasantly neutral. All this stuff with Max and the sleepless nights were chipping away at my usual composure.
Max. He thought Daddy was involved in some sort of conspiracy with the Bratva. If I could only prove to him that it wasn’t true, then he’d leave my dad alone. His family was guilty, and the Bratva had nothing to do with that fact. Neither did my father.
Who better to ask for details about the Ferrara case than the man who’d brought them down?
“Yeah,” I replied. “I’m okay. I, um, part of why I’ve been so exhausted is because I’m trying to learn more about the Five Families case.”
