Page 111 of Notorious Park Avenue Prince

“James.” My father’s voice was low, and I whirled around to see him standing inside Professor Efron’s empty office. I followed him in, keeping the door cracked so I could listen out for anyone walking by and turned to face him.

The great Niles Easton was a proud man, tall, in shape, his dark brown hair only threaded with silver, always, always immaculately dressed in a custom suit from our tailor in Italy.He was why I took great care in my own attire, because no one respected a man who didn’t look the part.

Only now, his sharp features were even more prominent, with etched lines in his forehead where I’d never noticed them before, and a downturn to his mouth.He didn’t look like a man at the top of his game. He looked like he’d been put through the wringer.

“James.” My father wasn’t a man who showed affection, so when he laid a hand on my shoulder, I tensed up.

“What are you doing here?”

That wasn’t what I’d expected to ask him when I saw him again. I assumed I’d express some feeling of relief that he was no longer behind bars. That he’d answer all my questions, reassure me this was a big misunderstanding and everything was fine.

But in the pit of my stomach, I knew. Everything wasnotfine. And my father wasn’t innocent.

He squeezed my shoulder before drawing his hand away. “I wanted to see you.”

“Why?” I couldn’t remember a time he’d ever stopped by Astor, and definitely not to see me.

My father tilted his head to the side, his hazel eyes the same color as mine sharpening. “Aren’t you glad I’m here? That I’m free? I’ve been through hell the last few days.”

“Yeah. I heard.” I crossed my arms and stepped back, putting some space between us. “Care to explain what’s been going on?”

“I beg your pardon?”

His choice of words had me scoffing. “From what I hear, that’s exactly what you’ll be doing. Begging for a pardon.”

“Don’t tell me you believe all the rumors. I raised you to be smarter than that.”

“Uh huh. So you’re telling me you’re innocent? You didn’t do any of the things you’ve been charged with?”

He let out a long sigh and rested on the edge of the desk. “Business is complicated. You’ll learn that soon enough.”

“It’s a yes-or-no question.”

“Nothing is ever that cut and dry, James,” he snapped. “Once you graduate and enter the real world, you’ll understand.”

“Riiight. Because I’ll have a degree that makes it suddenly possible to learn the deceptive ways of the world. Makes sense.”

“Don’t speak that way to me. You may not approve or like my ways, but youwillrespect me.”

And that was the thing—I always had. I’d respected and admired my father, had always thought he was the smartest man in the city because he was one of the most successful. One of the richest. He was the owner of Easton Tower, one of Manhattan’s architectural masterpieces, for Christ’s sake.

All of that, gone with the click of the handcuffs on his wrists.

There was so much I wanted to say in that moment, the last few days’ worth of festering emotions just dying to come out, but it felt a hell of a lot deeper than that. Like I’d been holding on to resentment toward him for longer than I realized.

“Did you really come here just to see me?” I asked, breaking the silence.

“I did.” He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled something out. “While I’m here, I thought you could hold on to these for me.”

I stared down at the folded legal-sized envelope but didn’t move to take it.“What’s that?”

“Just a few documents that need safekeeping.”

My eyes flicked up to his. “Why don’t you put them in the safe?”

“Because they’re important, and I’d rather entrust you with them.”

“I’m sure Mother would hold on to them for you if they’re so important.”

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