Page 96 of When Kings Fall

Never had truer wise words been spoken.

Of course that was what needed to happen to make this fully real.

It was time for my father to meet the true me.

I could always tell the moment the old bastard was near.

The air became thicker, filled with a whole lot of toxicity.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.

My pulse picked up.

Adrenaline spiked, my body automatically readying for a fight.

And most of all, a sense of shame took me over prior to even laying eyes on him, prior to him even being in my space.

No matter what, no matter how well I was doing, what I was achieving, he stole that sense of accomplishment and feeling good about myself away with just a few damaging words, and sometimes, even just a single derisive look.

The power he had over me was staggering.

It was disturbing.

Hell, it was absolutely disgusting.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Colt said, rubbing my arm, as we watched the Rolls-Royce pull in.

“After this, it’ll all be smooth sailing,” Bree assured me, before planting a kiss on my cheek.

Colt grinned, then kissed the other.

As he pulled away, he laid his hand on my shoulder, “Now, go and tell him how it’s gonna be from now on.”

I nodded and steadied myself.

And then I stepped out of the mansion.

The Rolls came to a stop and then my father climbed out.

Surprisingly, my mom followed.

She usually stayed out of our discussions and gave my father all the power there.

Hell, she’d given him her power in every way a long time ago.

I took her in first. Caramel-brown hair just like mine was cascading about her face in ringlets, done up to the nines. She was dressed in her usual flashy and fashion-forward way in a sleek asymmetrical black and silver dress and a pair of Vivier pumps, it all fitting with her whole socialite thing.

It was a direct and shocking contrast to my father’s appearance.

He was wearing one of his ugly brown designer suits, which he considered classic, but was really a lack of imagination. And that, there, was half the trouble between us. He couldn’t handle my creativity. To him, it was a threat, something that lacked control and incited rebellion.

Fuck me, he’d come so close to making me a carbon copy of him in the control department—let alone the whole lawyer-in-the-making thing that I’d always hated—and I’d put that on Lev and Colt, even Brianna at first, because I’d been so afraid of the consequences if I didn’t do him justice and channel him in everything that I did like he wanted.

Like he’d ordered and then enforced through collusion.

And the leverage that he no longer had.

Unbeknownst to him.

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