Page 59 of Come Here and Kiss Me

Ronan

My father’s office brings back shit memories. Like I’m a child once again who’s in trouble with their old man. I assume he wants to see me over the controversy, and I’d be lying if I say I’m a little on edge about what he’ll throw at me. He’s always gotten under my skin.

Especially when you’re a Wolf. He probably thinks I’m ruining the family name, and I take some joy in that.

Fuck him.

He’s as bad as Dean Chambers.

Which is yet another thing Brooklyn and I have in common. We both grew up with shitty fathers who always thought they knew best despite the trauma and toxicity they could be causing. It’s sad when you think about it. I spent years in therapy, paying a fuckload of money for someone to tell me that I’m mad at my father.

Yeah, no shit.

With a heated tingle at the back of my neck, I feel his presence before he even walks into the room. He has a certain aura about him. Almost like he’s Satan himself.

His dark hair is at odds with the stark white marble covering the back wall. His high-end office is cold and stark, just like his very presence.

And without any greeting, he takes a seat across from me at his desk, where I was made to wait, and simply orders, “End your charade with the girl, or I’ll tell the board that you lied, and it will destroy your chance at tenure.”

Knots twist in my stomach as I lock eyes with him and keep my expression as impassive as possible.

Charade with the girl?What exactly does he know?

It takes a minute to even register the threat.My father has done a lot of fucked-up shit to me through the years, but this one takes the whole damn cake.

I don’t back down, and I’m insulted that he thinks I will.

“What fucking charade? You don’t get to?—”

“Gerald told me everything.”

Swallowing thickly, I register the hell I’m in. I can’t speak. I can’t say a word.What the fuck? No fucking way. Gerald?

“He had good intentions. Wanted me to help, so I am.” My father’s smile twists the knife in my heart.

Gerald.

Fuck, man.I can barely breathe with the lump that grows in my throat.

He doesn’t understand. His parents want the best for him. Mine wants what he feels I took from him.

I don’t even flinch, scoffing out a chuckle, and immediately play it off.

“What makes you think he’s telling you the truth?”

My father rebuts with another question. “What need would he have to lie to me?”

My thumb taps on the hardwood. Of everything I expected, it wasn’t a threat about tenure. It wasn’t that he knew we were lying. Every possible outcome races through my mind, fighting to be heard.

I respond to my father a little slower than I’d like but calmly and confidently. “I don’t know why he felt the need to lie to you, but if he continues, I have no problem suing him for slander. Just how far do you want to take this?”

“As far as needed. You won’t marry her. I’ll destroy you both before I allow her to have my last name or a cent of Wolf money.”

My hands twist on the leather armrests of the wingback chair. My palms are sweaty. It’s why I should have never told him. I should have kept my mouth shut.The moment a lie slips, it spreads like wildfire.

“So end it. Or I’ll end it all for you,” my father says in my silence.

Who the hell does he think he is?

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