I’d barely looked away from the screen when he replied.
Rafe
Say the word, Wyatt
I shook my head even though he wouldn’t see. My lack of response was enough, and Rafe knew this argument exhausted me.
I felt like a zombie as Willow chattered away. I followed her on autopilot, humming at her new paint –I didn’t know what the old paint had been– then nodding at her new flooring. I had no idea what the old flooring had been, either.
I had no idea what was going on inside this house anymore.
But I knew I needed to get Willow and Lauren out of here.
“Master Wyatt.”One of my father’s butlers stood in Willow’s doorway after a quick, polite knock. “Your father will see you now.”
“Make sure to mention to my father you entered my room without a response again, Jeeves.” Willow snarked from where she sat on the couch.
The butler, whose name was most certainlynotJeeves, sneered at her when he was sure she wouldn’t see, then gave me a look as if to saywomen, am I right?
I only stared at him. It was all I could do not to punch him right in his hooked nose, which had clearly been punched a few times before.
He dropped his gaze, then scuttled away quickly. I shared a look with Willow before I followed the butler out into the main hall.
My father had no reason to send someone to fetch me from Willow’s wing. This home was large, but not so much so that a quick walk would be cumbersome. His public office, the one that received guests, was on the lower level toward the back of the home on purpose because he wanted his business rivals and associates getting a good look at the house as they walked through. His personal office was still upstairs, the direction Lauren had headed.
I sighed as I started up the stairs, following Jeeves, who hadn’t bothered to give me his real name.
My father knew I’d been here for over an hour, and his allowing me to spend time with Willow wasn’t out of the goodness of his heart.
We arrived at the office, and Jeeves bowed low before knocking on the heavy wooden door, waiting on a reply before pushing inside.
“So, youdoknow how to wait for a response,” I commented as I strode inside the office.
My father furrowed his brow.
“Jeeves didn’t wait for Willow to respond before he burst inside her room,” I explained.
My father’s green eyes darkened as he glared at the butler, who looked at me almost in betrayal. I took a seat in one of the plush, blue armchairs across from my father’s large, oak desk.
“I’ll deal with you later,” his deep voice was loud in the silence that’d followed my explanation. Jeeves scrambled out of the office, and I leaned back as much as my nervous system would allow. I needed to appear at least alittlecomfortable to keep him from exploiting my anxiety.
“Wyatt,” my father said. He shifted, putting his hands into his pockets as he leaned back against the oak buffet table behind his desk. He stood right in front of –and I’m not joking– a painted portrait of himself.
It was a nice portrait, all things considered. He looked just as ruthless and dickish as he pretended not to be.
“How are you, son?” he asked when I didn’t reply.
I waved one of my hands back and forth in aso-sogesture.
He nodded, looking me over. His gaze remained stoic, though, so he hadn’t found me lacking.
“I thought you’d bring your Key with you for this visit.”
There it is.
I gave him a smile that I knew was a little more mocking than indulgent. “I’d never bring her here.”
He prodded at the inside of his cheek with his tongue, then nodded before sighing as he took a seat in his pristine leather chair. It creaked loudly as he sat back comfortably. He looked as if he wanted to kick hisfeet up for a moment, then decided against it. He’d created most of the furniture in this house using his earth affinity, as he liked to remind us when we were younger. Any damage to the furniture was seen as a personal slight against him.
