“Mr. Antonov,” he says. “We spoke on the phone.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You sounded… normal on the phone.”
“I’m normal,” I say, meeting his gaze.
He studies me with cool disdain. “You don’t look it.”
Callista steps in. “Dad, he’s one of the top accounting students. He’s brilliant.”
Her father ignores her. “You’re dating him?”
“Yes,” she says, voice steady.
He sighs. “You always have to be the difficult one, don’t you? You couldn’t bring a respectable young man? Someone who fits in?” He looks me up and down again. “You had to bring this.”
My jaw tightens. “This?”
He doesn’t even glance at me. “You’ve always been jealous of Selina. Is that what this is? You couldn’t stand her getting attention?”
Callista’s voice trembles. “Dad, that’s not true.”
He cuts her off. “Your mother was just like you. Always chasing men who didn’t belong in our world. Always looking for trouble.”
Something inside me hardens. “That’s not fair.”
He turns to me. “This is between me and my daughter.”
“She’s not your punching bag,” I say, my voice low.
His eyes flash. “You don’t know anything about this family. Her mother destroyed our reputation. She ran off with a man like you. Tattoos. Arrogant. No discipline. I see her every time I look at Callista.”
Callista flinches. “I’m not her.”
He doesn’t stop. “It’s in your blood. Recklessness. Shame. It always shows up eventually.”
My fists clench. “She’s nothing like her mother,” I say sharply. “She’s kind, she’s intelligent, and she works harder than anyone here. But you’re too blind to see it.”
He points a finger at me. “Watch yourself, young man.”
“Maybe start watching how you treat your daughter,” I shoot back. “She deserves better than this circus.”
“Dmitry,” Callista whispers, tugging at my arm, panic in her eyes.
Her father steps closer. “Proud of her? She sleeps around and brings home trash like you. She’s proving me right every day.”
“This isn’t about me.” My feelings are spiraling out of control. I hate how this guy talks to Callista. Talks about Callista. He has no right to criticize what’s mine. He doesn’t deserve to be her father, but I hate that I’m the one who feels powerless. Because at the end of the day, I’m nothing more than Callista’s fake boyfriened. “You’ve never seen her as an independent person with her own personality and tastes. She’s not an extension of her mother. You already judged her to be flawed even before you gave her a chance to prove herself.”
“Well, she has proved herself, hasn’t she?” Her father’s arrogant smirk makes a nerve pop on my forehead. “She has proved herself to be just like that whore, spreading her legs for any man who catches her fancy.”
Anger, adrenaline, and righteousness surge through my blood like a potent cocktail. That’s it. I’ve had it with this man.
My vision narrows.
Before I realize it, my fist connects with his jaw.
The sound silences the crowd. The music stops. Champagne glasses tremble in people’s hands.
