“Val, sweetheart,” he calls out loudly for Sophia’s mother. “Bring me the shotgun from the safe.”
“What are you talking about?” The voice of her mother carries through the massive house, the sound of her heels clicking against the floor reaching my ears. She steps into the room, the smile faltering from her face as she takes a good look at me. “You know what, I’ll go and grab it for you.”
“There’s absolutely no need to get violent,” I chuckle, but seeing how serious these two are makes me second-guess myself. Maybe I should’ve told Sophia I’d drop by, since I thought it’d be a good surprise. Now? I’m no longer sure of that.
I take a couple of steps toward Mrs. Sloane, extending the flowers. “These are for you.”
Her eyes narrow to slits, and she takes the bouquet from me reluctantly. She brings them to her nose, inhaling, not once taking her eyes off me. Sophia’s father might be a little terrifying, but he’s nothing compared to her mother. I’d rather not be on her bad side.
“Hm,” her voice lowers. “Fine. Sit down. I’ll call Sophia.”
“What? Sweetheart, no,” Mr. Ford protests. “Don’t tell me he bought you, with flowers.”
She shrugs. “Not exactly. But I don’t want to traumatize Elliot by having him clean up after a dead body. So, try not to strangle the boy, alright?”
She doesn’t even wait for a response before leaving the room, her footsteps fading away. I turn to face Jason Sloane, who’s lookingat me like he’s a second away from committing the world’s worst homicide. I think he’d torture me for a while, too.
“Sit the fuck down,” he grits, then moves to the liquor cabinet behind him. He grabs two glasses, a bottle of old whiskey, and pours equal amounts into each glass. He slides one over to me across the glass table, and I catch it with ease as I take a seat. He sits across from me, taking a big gulp of the whiskey.
“So, Jason…”
“It’s Mr. Sloane for you,” he spits. “Why are you here, Ford? And think about your next words very, very carefully. And before you ask — no, I do not approve of this relationship.”
“You came to terms with Sawyer and Astrid, though.”
He glares at me to the point that this entire interaction becomes almost comical. “Yes, but that’s because those two idiots got married behind our backs.”
I shrug. “I won’t do that. I’ll ask for your permission to marry Sophia.”
“And you’ll get it over my dead body.”
“I’ll also arrange that if you wish.”
“You got balls, boy, I’ll give you that,” he finishes the glass of whiskey, then pours himself a new one. “What have I ever done in life to be punished so severely that not only one of my children, but both of them? Sloanes somehow falling into the trap of the Fords?”
Before I can respond with something sarcastic, Sophia comes through the door. She’s panting as if she were running to get here, her eyes darting quickly between her father and me.
“What are you doing here, Soren?” She asks, fighting back a smile, which annoys Jason even more. She comes to sit next to me, and I swear, a vein almost bursts on his forehead. He’s beyond angry.
“I came here to see you,” I chuckle, taking her hand in mine andpressing a soft kiss to the back of her palm.
“Do not touch my daughter, you little shit,” Jason hisses, and Sophia sighs.
“Dad, look,” she says, only to be interrupted.
“Don’t ‘dad’ me,” he mocks. “I don’t like this, Sophia. You can do so, so much better than him, baby. You’re too brilliant to settle for him.”
I’m completely unbothered by his words, and the insults don’t have the effect on me that he’d like. However, Sophia’s eyes squint dangerously at her father, and even he is taken aback.
“You don’t get to do that, Dad,” she says, her voice calm, but something is lurking underneath it that makes me lift a brow. “I understand why you’re worried about this entire thing, I really do, but I’m an adult. I love Soren, and you forbidding me from being with him will only make me do something as stupid as what Sawyer did. I love him, Dad. Don’t ruin the best thing that’s happened in my life just because you have prejudice against him.”
“It’s not prejudice, honey, it’s called common fucking sense.”
Sophia sighs, slowly walking around the table, and sitting down on the floor. She’s looking up at her father, taking his hand in hers, and holding it tightly.
“I love him, Dad. I really do. I know it’ll take time for you to come to terms with this, and I know your biggest concern is the business, but when Soren and I inevitably get married, I’ll get a prenup. I’m not stupid.”
He scoffs. “Of course, you’ll get a fucking prenup! I didn’t raise a moron. That’s the only reason I’ll even give you the business, because your idiot brother didn’t get a prenup.”
