Page 57 of Wicked Knight

While they gobble that up, I watch my father as he continues talking it up with Pat.

I almost rejoice when it’s time to pay the bill and leave.

Pat and Alina leave first, giving me the chance to speak to my father properly.

I can see he wants to do the same with me.

They’ve hardly walked through the door when the fake smile falls off his face and he snaps his attention to me with that seething look in his eyes.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He tries to keep his voice low so the people at the nearby tables don’t hear him, but his rage raises his tone.

“Me? Are you fucking serious?” I don’t bother to try for subtly. “Why the hell are you matchmaking when I told you I wanted to focus on football?”

He leans forward, fists on the table, eyes on me, his intensified glare probing. “You seem to prefer blondes. I thought Alina would be a good match.”

Fuck. I was right. Blondes. Like Mackenzie.

Heistaking precautions. That could be because he might suspect something is going on between Mackenzie and me.

“I’m focusing on football.” I ignore the comment about blondes, but he knows he fazed me. “Don’t do spontaneous shit like this again to me, or try to trap me by using Pat.”

“I will do what I see fit.” A malicious glint enters his eyes, dark and cold, like smoke and frost. “You are still my son and a student at my college. I still have control over you. Andotherpeople.”

I don’t miss the distinct threat in the words he hasn’t voiced.

Mackenzie.

My bastard father is telling me he has control over her, too.

I want to rip his face off for the threat, but my God do I hold back. Retaliating would be showing my ass and proving guilt. Proving there’s something to worry about.

Silence is better in this instance because it makes things vague. It keeps everything in that sphere of uncertainty where he’s still not sure.

Mackenzie wasn’t wrong to be worried about him. My father is very a powerful and untouchable son of a bitch no one fucks with. That’s why he’s the Lord Chancellor of Raventhorn.

I all but assured Mackenzie she wouldn’t have to worry about him. I can’t let her down. She has more to lose than me. He’d make sure of it. He’d get to her if he can’t get to me.

“Guys, please,” Yuliana cuts into the tense stare-off, placing a delicate hand on Father’s arm. Her touch seems to pacify him because he glances at her and his face softens. “I hate when you fight. Can’t we just enjoy being together?”

“Of course, dear.” Father leans forward and gives her another kiss on her cheek. His phone rings at the same time. He retrieves it from his pocket, glances at the caller ID, and looks back at both of us. “I have to take this. Be ready to leave when I get back.”

He hits me with one last scathing look before he pushes to his feet and makes his way outside on the terrace.

I watch him, hating his power and the authority he tries to use to dominate me.

I’m not a fool, nor a weakling. I won’t allow him to rule me.

The problem is, how do I stop it?

Warm hands reach across the table and touch mine. It’s Yuliana.

I look at her and offer a kind smile.

“Are you okay?” she asks in a gentle tone.

“No. Are you?” I search her eyes, remembering my previous thoughts about her and my father.

“No.” I like that she’s honest with me.

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