I take one last look at the mess of the square, the quiet after the festival’s roar, and make my way toward the one place I know I can always find my father: Whitlock Enterprises.
It’s a few blocks away, and I know the second I step through those doors, I’ll be swallowed up by the weight of expectations.
My father’s footsteps echo in the hall before I even see him.
Thomas Whitlock. Alpha. Business tycoon. The man who built this town from the ground up and expects everyone to respect him for it.
Charming as hell when he wants something from you, but the kind of guy who can size you up and make you feel like you’re already failing before you even open your mouth.
I walk into his office without knocking, which is never a good idea, but it’s the only way to get a reaction out of him.
“Hayes,” he says, looking up from the papers he’s pretending to read. He’s sitting behind his desk, hands folded, his perfectly tailored suit making him look like he’s about to give a speech. Not a wrinkle in sight. “Good to see you’ve made it in. I trust you’re staying on top of everything?”
“Yeah, Dad. I’ve got it handled.”
My voice is tight. He hasn’t even asked me how I’m doing. Just the usual, the same routine. He only notices me when I’m useful.
When I’m doing what pleases him and brings respect to the family name.
He leans back in his chair, fingers tapping rhythmically on the desk, eyes narrowing, sizing up the latest threat to his empire.
“You’ve done well in your role with the mayor’s office. The connections you’re making are good for the Whitlock name.”
He doesn’t even need to say it. He never does. It’s all about appearances, about making sure the Whitlock name stays at the top, untouchable.
But even as he speaks, I feel the shift. I know exactly what’s coming. He’s seen the same rumors I’ve heard. The town is buzzing again, and Lo Marsh is at the center of it.
He straightens, his hands steepled in front of him as he focuses on me, but it’s clear he’s already playing a few steps ahead. “You’re doing well, but you can do better. The next step, Hayes, is to make sure your personal life is in line with that ambition.”
I can almost hear the script he’s running through his head. He’s said it a thousand times, in his own way.
“Find someone respectable. Someone who makes sense. Someone who matches your status.”
There it is. The pressure. The expectations.
All for a crowd of spectators he wishes would clap every time he breathes.
His sharp voice rips me out of my head. “Someone who won’t drag our name through the mud.”
The steel of his tone is unmistakable. He doesn’t need to say her name. We both know who he means. It’s not subtle.
It’s Lo.
I clench my jaw to keep the frustration from spilling out. My mind goes a thousand miles an hour, but all I can manage is, “I’m not sure I’m looking for that, Dad.”
He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t take the bait. Instead, he pushes forward; he’s already won the battle.
“I didn’t get to where I am by playing small, Hayes. And neither should you. You’re well connected now, but the Whitlock name is about more than that. People need to see that you have control. That you’re stable. If you want to continue advancing, you need to start acting the part.” His voice goes even colder. “That means no more distractions. No more… complications.”
I bite down on my tongue, the words burning at the back of my throat, but I keep them inside. What I want to say is: “You don’t get to tell me who I love or what’s worth my time, you selfish bastard.” But that won’t change anything.
I’ve known my whole life that my father deals in order, not chaos. And Lo is chaos. She always has been.
“I understand,” I manage, as cold as I can. It’s the only response he’ll accept. “I’ll take care of it.”
His face breaks into that perfect smile of his. “Good. I’m counting on you, Hayes. We need to be at the top, and to stay there, we need everything in place. That includes your personal life.”
His words press down on me like a vise. He’s not asking for my approval. He’s telling me what needs to happen. And worse, he’s probably right.
