Page 101 of Hate To Love You

Lainey and Ellie exchange a confused glance. “Why? What happened?” Ellie asks.

I shake my head, not wanting to reiterate what just happened upstairs with Amy. I just want to go home and finish packing. I need to go home.

“Nothing, I just… I need to go. You guys stay, have fun,” I tell them. Their expressions are a mix of worry and hesitation. “Seriously, go. I’m fine,” I send them a fake smile before I turn around and head out of the Elite mansion without looking back.

How could I have been so stupid? I knew who Ryker was before getting involved with him. I knew he’d break my heart.

Why did I let him?

Chapter 46

Ryker

I received a text from my father around eight forty-five tonight asking Logan and I to meet him on campus at Whittaker Hall. Logan and I were preparing for the end of semester party at the mansion when our phones went off.

Father, Logan

Father

Meet me at Whittaker

Hall asap.

My leg bounces rapidly as I sit in my father’s campus office which he was given by Dean Ashby for his work with Ellington University and the Elite. My palms are sweaty against the wooden handles of the chair.

Logan sits next me, not looking nearly as agitated as I feel. But why would he be? He doesn’t get the brunt of our father’s disdain.

I feel his eyes on me as my leg continues to bob.

“Dude, calm down,” Logan whispers, his eyes searching my face.

“Easy for you to say. He doesn’t hate you,” I grit out. Logan rolls his eyes.

“He doesn’t hate you, Ryker. Don’t be ridiculous,” he hisses.

“He has a funny way of showing it,” I scoff. My father has hated me since the moment I told him I didn’t want to work for The Steele Corporation under his ruling. He thinks I’m disrespectful, unruly, and he can’t stand someone going against him.

The door opens and shuts with a click as my father walks into the room and takes a seat across from us, the air turning instantly ten degrees cooler.

His black hair is slicked back, as always, the suit he’s wearing is nicely pressed, and he’s still sporting a mob mustache. The wrinkles under his eyes and on his forehead as he scowls make him look years older than his age of forty-five.

I realize now that I don’t even recall a time I’ve seen my father smile. He’s always had this perpetual scowl on his face. At least around me.

I can’t imagine what he wanted to meet for that couldn’t have waited until Logan and I came home in a few days. My hands grip the handles of the chair tight as my father begins to speak.

“Hello, boys. Thank you for coming so quickly. I needed to discuss some urgent matters with you,” he says before tossing a manila folder in my direction. I can feel Logan’s eyes on me as I pick up the folder and open it.

My jaw tightens as I study the pages in front of me. A picture of a man who looks like Gwen stares back at me. They have the same sapphire blue eyes.

My eyes scan the paper.

Wade Sharpe, class of 2001Birthday: April 7th, 1979

Age: 45

Location: Los Angeles, CA

Active Elite Member from 1998 to 2001

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