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“Just sparing her the bad vibes, Father.”
“Bad vibes caused by you not respecting your father’s wishes.”
“You mean not capitulating toevery single oneof your unreasonable demands?”
Ire roughens his rugged face. “We need to talk about Gabriella,” he says, and my features tense.
“I’ve said what I have to say about that matter. She means nothing to me, as you well know. We’ve tried… repeatedly. It doesn’t work. I want nothing more to do with her.”
“I don’t care what she means to you. Not everything is aboutyou, Greyson.”
When was it ever, Father?
“The union will be happening… and I won’t let some ten-a-penny whore fuck it up.”
My fingers coil tightly around my pen. “Who are you talking about, exactly?”
“I know you,” he drawls. “What, did the bitch feed you some sob story? Make her feel sorry for you? You can fuck her if need be. She certainly looks thirsty enough for you… but once you’re done, you’ll discard her like the trash that she is.”
It takes a second to get to my feet, my body raging, my fists tensing as I try to control my breathing.
I haven’t physically fought with him since I was a child and forced back kicking and screaming… until he started to beat what he perceived as the insubordination out of me.
After years of that, I stopped being brave enough to stand up to him. Only now, I’m as tall, as strong, as rough.
His eyes widen, but he doesn’t move an inch, watching carefully, his fingers coiling around a pen, as if readying himself to use it.
I know you would…
You’d do it…
I drop my head as the realization hits me that I gave him what he wanted—confirmation that she does mean something to me.
I just don’t fully understand what. I can’t exactly deny that my body hardens, my cells lighting up when she comes near me, hitting me with that audacious little glare of hers. Nor can I exactly explain why every cell in my body is drawn to a woman who gives me the kind of attitude others would never dare to.
But is there more to it than that?
There can’t be…
I’m not capable of more…
“I barely know her,” I whisper, finally sitting back in my seat, working my way up to meet his foul glare.
He watches me, unmoving, only this time, I match his animus.
“The whore clearly wants to know you,” he responds. “Or is my own son that fucking naïve? Do you think that little stunt in the lobby was an accident? I don’t think so…”
You and that famous paranoia of yours, father.
“She nearly fell on her fucking face,” I reply. “If I hadn’t caught her, she’d have broken her nose, at best.”
“That’s how they fool you. But then, you always were weak and foolish when it comes to seeing what women are…”
The shared knowledge we have of one particular woman from long ago rattles the air between us, plunging the room into frigid darkness.
“What do you want?”
“You may amuse yourself with your little deer. Make itthorough, but by the end of this week, she’ll be nothing but a memory. If you don’t see to that, I will…”
