Frustration bubbles to the surface, and I retort, “Oh, you mean as alone as you left her when you didn’t write her back for weeks?”
“Grey, play it cool, man,” Misha mutters from behind me, but I already regret my words, knowing they’ll only make the situation worse.
“This has to be a bad dream,” Amelia mutters, but I still can’t see her.
Shit. This isn’t how any of us wanted this to go.
Oliver steps forward, his face pleading, “Amelia, please, can we talk?”
There’s no response from her, just August scowling at us, well, mostly at me. I meet his gaze, matching his intensity, refusing to back down. If there’s something I’m good at, it’s scowling.
Misha tries next, his tone filled with remorse, “Amelia, please. We know we fucked up, okay? Let us explain. Tell us what we can do to make things right?”
August’s patience is clearly wearing thin. “I think you did enough. Now leave,” he says, his disdain for us evident.
The butler interjects, cutting through the tension. “Mr. Stanley, do you want me to call the police? I guess such a scene will not be to the liking of Mrs. Stanley.”
August nods, pulling out his phone. “Good idea, James,” he says, his finger hovering over the screen.
Fuck, how long do you go to prison for stalking in the UK?
“No, God. Auggie, stop.” Amelia grabs the phone from her brother before she pulls him back by his upper arm, stepping in front of him before addressing the butler. “James, thank you, but we don’t need your services here anymore. They are about to leave.”
She looks at me with a challenge I’m eager to accept as James leaves, but then another man appears at the door and roughly grabs Amelia by the shoulder, pulling her back.
What the fuck?
My fists clench involuntarily as he positions her beside August, and I have to resist the urge to call him out for manhandling her. In the corner of my eye, I see Oliver take a step forward, but I can’t take my attention away from the new situation at hand. It already takes every ounce of self-control not to intervene.
“What is this commotion about?” the newcomer demands, his stern and authoritative presence commanding attention.
I take in his appearance—tall, impeccably suited, with brown hair peppered gray at the temples and piercing blue eyes—and realize this must be Amelia’s father. He exudes an air of wealth and status, looking like an older version of August. The family resemblance is undeniable, but where August’s features hold some warmth, this man’s face is all cold authority.
Recognizing that my previous approach isn’t working, I decide to change tactics. “Mr. Stanley, it’s nice to meet you,” I say, putting on my most polite tone. I force a smile, hoping it doesn’t look as strained as it feels. “We’re Amelia’s coworkers from Seattle. We’re here for a conference and wanted to visit your daughter.”
I can practically feel Misha and Oliver’s surprised gazes boring into the side of my head.
Yeah, well, I’m surprised too.
I pray they’ll play along, but they stay silent, which is even better. Even August huffs but doesn’t contradict me. It’s clear he’s protective of Amelia, even if he’s not showing it in the best way. The tension in the air is palpable, and I find myself holding my breath.
Amelia speaks up, her voice tight. “Yes, and they were just leaving.” I hear the strain in her words, her barely concealed plea for us to go.
It breaks my heart to hear her sound so defeated.
Her father shoots her a disapproving look as if scolding her for merely opening her mouth. I feel a fresh wave of anger at his treatment of her, but I push it down.
Now isn’t the time for confrontation.
Mr. Stanley turns his attention back to us, his gaze sharp and assessing. “Colleagues at that tech company? Are you speaking at this conference? What’s your name?”
I get the distinct impression he’s sizing me up, determining if I’m successful enough to warrant his time. His eyes rake overme, taking in every detail of my appearance. I raise my chin, meeting his gaze unflinchingly.
“Grey Donovan, sir,” I respond, ignoring Amelia’s scowl at my use of the honorific.
I need to play this right.
“And this is Misha Niarchos and Oliver Harwood. We’re working on a project that will soon revolutionize tech. But unfortunately, I can’t brag about it yet.”
