Page 122 of Mile High Daddy

“You’ve been really…” I hesitate, searching for the right word.

“Really what?” he asks.

I exhale, looking down at my mug. “I don’t know. Kind.”

Silence stretches between us.

When I glance up, his expression is unreadable.

“You think I’m not capable of that?” he asks, voice quiet, but rough.

I swallow. “I don’t know what you’re capable of, Mikhail.”

He watches me for a long moment.

Then he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’m capable of taking care of what’s mine.”

The knock at the door makes me pause mid-sip.

I glance at Mikhail, expecting him to react, but he’s already sitting up straighter, his entire body going tense.

That’s my first clue that something is off.

I frown. “Who the hell would be here at this time of night?”

Mikhail doesn’t answer right away. And that’s my second clue.

“Who could that be?” I mutter, setting my mug down.

Mikhail shifts beside me.

I push off the couch and head toward the door. “Lila,” Mikhail says behind me, his voice low, careful, but I ignore him.

I swing the door open?—

And immediately wish I hadn’t.

Because standing there, looking perfectly at ease, is my father.

“Hello, darling,” he greets, smiling like he owns the world.

Annoyance spikes through me so fast I almost slam the door in his face.

Instead, I turn to Mikhail, my hands curling into fists.

“Did you call him?” I demand.

Mikhail doesn’t answer right away. He just holds my gaze, his expression unreadable, tense.

Which is enough of an answer.

“Unbelievable,” I mutter, shaking my head, my blood boiling. “I don’t need whatever lecture you both have planned, so just?—”

“Now, now, daughter,” my father interrupts, his voice smooth, patronizing. “Don’t be so annoyed. I actually have a surprise for you.”

I roll my eyes, about to tell him exactly where he can shove his surprises?—

But then a figure steps out from behind my father, and my heart stops.

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