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“Yes, I… look, I’ve not been honest with you, and I wish I had been, but I didn’t know how to say it, so I…” I gaze into his eyes. There’s no worry there, not even fear—only concern. Noah doesn’t seem to fear for a second that I’m about to hurt him—he seems to only care that I’m okay. And that makes what I have to say even harder, but I need to say it now, while there’s still a chance, before it’s too late. “I don’t know how to say it, and I don’t want you to hate me, so—”
“Seraphina,” my name in Noah’s mouth is gentle and warm as sunlight. He brushes a thumb over my lips, quieting me for a moment. “I could never hate you. You can tell me anything.”
He leans down to kiss me on my forehead, but he’s suddenly pulled back by his shoulder, startling us both.
“Get the fuck off my daughter,” snarls a voice.
A deep, angry voice, with a thick New York accent. A voice that makes my stomach drop and my skin spike with nerves.
My father steps around the pillar. His face is red and his eyes are bulging with fury. But he’s not looking at me. He’s looking straight at Noah.
“And who thefuckare you?”
Chapter 17
Ugly Truth
Noahisremarkablycalmas he faces my father. I’ve seen grown men and women, regardless of wealth or status, crumble in the face of my Robert Rosenthal’s fury—I’ve done it myself. But Noah meets my father’s eyes, watching him for a moment before answering.
“I’m Noah Watson, sir.”
He extends his hand, but my father doesn’t take it.
“You’ve got a labourer’s hands,Noah,” he sneers. “Not the kind of hand that should go anywhere near my daughter.”
Noah shrugs and drops his hand. “Seraphina is standing right here. If she wants me away from her, she’ll tell me so, and I’ll obeyher.”
For the first time, my father turns to look at me. He doesn’t acknowledge the fact we haven’t seen each other in months, or how I look, or my dress—or even that I’m here at all. His gaze slides off me like I’m an object, a statue by some lesser artist that’s not quite deserving of his attention, and he turns back to Noah.
“Watch how you speak to me, boy. I’ll have you thrown out on your ass faster than you can fucking blink.”
“I’m sure you will, sir. But I wasn’t trying to be disrespectful.” I stare at Noah as he speaks, in awe of how calm he is, how quiet and level his voice stays. “I’ve come here with Seraphina and I’d prefer to leave with her.”
My father laughs, high and false.
“You’re never going to see my daughter again after tonight.”
He’s too angry to realise guests are trickling into our section of the gallery. I was hoping he wouldn’t do this in front of everyone, but now I can see that he can’t even help himself. His fragile ego is wilting at the sight of Noah’s calm, unconcerned demeanour—and I’m sure that the size discrepancy between them is adding nothing but fuel to the fire of my father’s ire.
This is all my fault.
I’ve engineered this moment—and it’s about to blow up in my face.
Since I’ve created this mess, I need to be the one to fix it. I’m the only one who can.
“Please, daddy,” I say, raising my hands in a pacifying gesture, “let’s not do this here. We’ll leave if that’s what you want.”
“No,you’re staying,” my father snaps without looking at me. He gives Noah an ugly smile. “Do you even know why my daughter brought you here tonight?”
“No,” Noah answers. “Your daughter is a free-thinking young woman. She can do whatever she likes without owing me an explanation.”
“You stupid bastard,” my father bursts out. “You poor, stupid, uneducated bastard. You’re not here because you respect my daughter, or because you love her. You’re not even here for sex. You’re just here because you’re too stupid to know better—too stupid to know you’re getting played.”
I step between my father and Noah. “Daddy, please, don’t.”
Luana lays her hand on my father’s arm and murmurs, “Robert, please.”
I hadn’t even noticed she was there. I hadn’t even noticed the room filling up. All I notice now is my father’s twisted, snarling face and Noah’s calm, handsome features, his dark eyes watching my father, taking him in.
