There’s a pause on the other end. “Understood,” Anthony says.
I disconnect and open the blinds. My eyes fix on Leoni. She’s sitting there, stiff and silent, with her eyes locked on her screen, her mind a million miles away.
And for the first time in a long while, I feel like the bastard everyone says I am. Because I’m part of the reason she’s hurting right now, and I can’t do a damn thing to take it back.
An hour later, there’s a knock at the door, and then Leoni steps in with the diary tucked under one arm and a coffee in her hand. She sets it down on my desk and takes a seat opposite me, all business.
“You’ve got no meetings this morning,” she begins, opening the diary.
“Wait.”
She glances up, clearly impatient.
“I just want to explain earlier,” I say.
Her tone goes cold. “No need.”
“Leoni—”
“This afternoon,” she cuts in, flipping a page, “I thought you might like to meet with—”
“Nothing’s going on between Nancy and I,” I interrupt.
“I don’t care,” she snaps. “Can we get on with today’s business?”
Her phone rings, cutting through the tension. She groans, already reaching for it. “I have to take this,” she mutters, pushing to her feet.
She steps out of the office; phone pressed to her ear. I should look away, give her privacy, but something in her voice makes me pause.
“Dad,” she says softly.
The word freezes me. I edge closer to the door, listening through the slight gap.
“I tried to call, but they said you were in seg again,” she says, her tone a mix of exasperation and concern. “What did you do this time?”
There’s silence whilst she listens to his reply.
“We don’t know anything,” she says. “The police have nothing, and there doesn’t seem to be a reason.” Another pause. “No, don’t call her. She’s struggling too much already. You’ll just make it worse.”
She exhales shakily. “I know, Dad. Okay. Send me a visiting order, but I’m not promising anything. Yeah… I love you too.”
She ends the call, her shoulders slumping for a second before she pulls herself together and heads back inside. I’m already sitting at my desk, pretending to skim through paperwork.
“Everything okay?” I ask lightly.
She waves her phone in the air. “My dad,” she mutters.
“Does he live in London?” I ask, keeping my tone casual.
She shakes her head. “He’s in prison.” I blink, feigning surprise. “Has been for—” she shrugs, “I don’t even know. Too long.”
“Shit,” I say quietly. “Sorry, Leoni. I didn’t realise.”
Her eyes flick to mine, sharp. “Why would you? And stop apologising for everything.” She exhales softly. “I’ll bring your afternoon schedule through when it’s confirmed.”
I nod, watching her leave.
The door clicks shut, and my mind goes into overdrive. Her father must be the target. I just need to know who he is, and why my father wants to ruin his life.
