He never hit me before. Not once.
Not even when I was younger. Not even when I failed exams or skipped company dinners.
He shouted, sure, gave me the cold shoulder, threw words like knives, but this, this is new.
My mother doesn’t move. She looks sad.
"Dad, why would y—"
"I told you," he shouts. "I told you to fucking stay away from that walking piece of trash!"
I blink, stunned. "Who—?"
"Don’t fucking play stupid," he snaps. "That Gio boy. That disgusting parasite. I warned you. I fucking warned you. And you went and shoved your tongue down his throat?"
I want to disappear. I want to crawl out of my skin. I want to go back in time and erase every second that led to this.
"I told you countless times, Weston," he says. "No contact. No association. No appearances outside those meetings. That boy has nothing to offer you but rot."
I try to speak. "It wasn’t—"
He raises his voice. "Don’t fucking lie to me!" He slams his hand on the table.
"I wasn’t—Dad, it’s not like that. It was just—"
"I saw the photos," he hisses. "I heard what people were saying. What they saw. You are absolutely disgusting."
I swallow hard.
He steps closer. "You let him kiss you," he says. "In public. Surrounded by people who know your name. Who know mine."
"It wasn’t real," I say quickly. "It was for someone else. It was fake."
"You think that matters to them?! You think they care why it happened? Nobody gives a shit! They don’t see a strategy. They see weakness." He paces now, hands clenched. "You let someone like him touch you. Someone who’s made of scandal and garbage. Someone who’s never done a clean day’s work in his life."
I flinch. "You don’t know that."
"I know enough," he says sharply. "I know what his father was. You think this Gio will help you? That he cares? He’ll pull you under with him and laugh when you drown."
"It’s not like that—"
"You were warned," he says, voice rising. "I told you. You don’t mix with him. You don’t speak to him. You don’t look at him."
"I didn’t plan it," I say, desperate now. "It just happened. I didn’t think—"
"No," he says. "You didn’t, Rava. That’s the problem." He steps closer again. "You’re too soft," he says. "Too easy. That boy sees it.He knows it. He’ll break you just like he breaks everything he touches."
"You’re wrong," I say, almost breathless.
"Am I?" he snaps. "Then why are you defending him? Why are you standing there looking like you’re about to cry for him?"
I bite the inside of my cheek.
He stares at me. "You’re not like him," he says. "And you won’t become like him."
"I’m not."
"Good," he says coldly. "Then let this be the last time I hear his name come up next to yours." He turns his back like it’s over, like the conversation never even happened, but my head spins, my cheek burns, my chest hurts worse, because the truth is I don’t know how to stay away from Gio.
