Page 64 of Ink Deep Devotion

“They’re not married yet,” my father sighs as his eyes press into me.Yes, Dad, I’m aware we will have words after this pointless meeting is over.

Ever since I returned from Initiation 101 and was thrust back into real life, Dad’s been strange. Distant yet present—like a leaf on a branch that isn’t big enough to shade you fully but still offers a little relief from the bright sun.

When we are forced to be in the same room, Dad is always staring my way like we were two-distant travelers unable to communicate over the chop waters, but one of us desperately wants to.

It sure as shit isn’t me who wants to talk. I have nothing to say to him, not after everything. Mom held us together, and the moment her beautiful heart stopped beating, so did ours. Everything died within the King household.

Greg’s face reddens; on his desk is a gold picture frame with a picture of Mila inside. It’s when she was a child posing in her ballet class. Tension pinches my neck when I look at that picture; Greg loved his daughter the most when she was suffering, doing something she hated in order to please him.

I look up at his walls.“Why don’t you have one of Mila’s paintings hanging on your walls?”

“Pardon me?” Greg hisses, his annoyance evident.

I point to the walls,“Mila paints. You want me to be proud of her, yet you don’t even have a painting she did on your walls.”

Greg visibly shakes.“How dare you!”

My dad kicks my foot.

“So it’s wrong of me to point out that you don’t know your daughter’s favorite things?”

“You know nothing of love or pride, boy.” Greg stands, hands flat on his desk.

“I know hate.” I can’t help it. Reaching out, I grab the frame and slam it face down on the desk.“Mila hates ballet. I wonder, since you forced her to dance, if that means she hates you, Greg.”

Speculation and shock flash in his eyes.“I didn’t force her.”

“Oh,” I tip my head back and chuckle. “You and my dad are so good at convincing Mila and me that we are not being forced to do something that you actually believe it. Pathetic.”

“Dash!” Dad barks.Bark louder, Dad. I can’t hear you.

“I’m warning you!” Greg points his finger at me.What’s that supposed to do, old man, make me quiver?

“No, I’m warningyou, Greg.” I raise an eyebrow, challenging him.“I survived Initiation 101. You can’t imagine the terrors I endured. What makes men like you hesitate makes men like me approach.” I lean forward, uncrossing my legs,“The things they made me do are too barbaric even for your contracts.”

I slap on my best evil grin.“Every night, you close your eyes; you should pray my attention doesn’t turn upon your daughter. Consider it a blessing. I will do what I want. Fuck who I want.The contract was for marriage. You never stated it had to be a happy one. You signed your daughter over to a monster so you could sleep well at night.”

“I did it so she would be safe!” He snaps at me, then looks at my dad,“I will not put up with this. He will treat my daughter with respect!”

Now Dad's the one leaning back, looking bored.“He’s playing you, and you are allowing it.”

Greg’s body shakes as realization hits him, and I can’t help but laugh again.

I can’t stand the fact that Mila still loves her father. She tried to please him for so long. She’s devoted her life to seeing the light in his monstrous eyes. Sometimes, that light is nothing but the glimmering deception of pure evil.

“You want Mila safe, Greg? Newsflash: Safety nets both save and trap. You made her bed. She’s mine. I’ll live my life how I want without your opinions pestering me. Deal’s a deal. Next time, write better fine print.”

“Stop it.” Dad exhales, then he looks at Greg,“I will handle this.”

Oh, I’d love to see you try.

“Don’t make me use your cousins to threaten you,” Dad hisses, low and precise. His words hit me like a laser etching a design into metal. I shut up, but it won’t work for much longer. That very threat is the reason my cousins—and the rest of my new family from Initiation 101—are plotting a way to ensure we’re never threatened again.

Greg didn’t hear my dad’s threat, so he continues.“After what your father did, you’d think your son would be grateful,Marcus, but no! Kings always leave a mess in their trail. Tell me who will clean up Dash’s mess—”

“That’s enough!” Dad stands so abruptly that his chair clatters to the floor. One of the wooden armrests splinters, a cold prelude to the coming pain. The anger on Dad’s face makes me sink into my chair. Dad doesn’t lose his temper in front of people. Hell, even when I ended up in the hospital, Dad remained calm, disappointed, but level-headed.

Greg pushed a nuclear button, and I need to know why so I can use it.

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