"That little?—"
"Dad, I have got some things I have to deal with," I say, a warning strong in my voice.
I can almost hear him grind his teeth. "Anything I can help you with since you will be coming back to the family?"
"Don't push it."
That is the fucking thing. I'm not coming back, not if I can help it, but I need to circumvent things carefully. And asking him for help is going to dig the hole deeper to where I can't get out. I will be trapped. Exactly where he wants me.
He said something about one of his men, but I wasn't listening, his tirade washed over me like the sea.
But there is one thing I need to know. Why Lyndall ran off in the first place.
She has done it before, I know that, but she wouldn't, now that I think about it. Not this close to me promising to do what I can.
"Any idea why your teenage daughter ran?" I pour a drink and sit down at the table. "Other than your charming personality and ability to listen to her and give her what she needs and wants?"
Lola is still there, she is pouring some water from the fridge. Her cheeks flame as she turns, scurrying out into the living room in the open-plan place where she sort of hovers.
Interesting.
She definitely knows something.
And the thing with open-plan places like this is that there is nowhere in this area for her to hide and eavesdrop, which she is trying to do.
Dad is talking, and I catch something that yanks my attention back.
"What the fuck did you just say?"
"I said I have got a good fucking idea why she ran. I caught her and one of my men in her room. She wasn't wearing much, and they were on the bed. Having sex."
"What?"
I'm on my feet so fucking fast my head spins. "She's fifteen. How old?"
"I don't know...Eighteen. Likes to pretend he's older to get into clubs. He's a piece of shit, Luke. And naturally, I put a fucking stop to it."
"She's fucking fifteen."
"Would it help your idiotic conscience if she was sixteen?"
I narrow my eyes and drain my glass, glaring over at Lola, who spins away and pretends she is examining some modern sculpture.
Silas didn't decorate this place, so he must have hired someone.
Fuck... Sex? With an adult man? It is bad enough if Dad was talking about a kid her age, but shit. Eighteen is adult.
I try to think of something else about this place to calm me down, but I can't.
"Christ, Dad."
"I locked her in her room, and I was intending to send her back to the school tomorrow and source a boarding school?—"
"She's already at boarding school."
"A very strict one, like a fortress, in Switzerland."
I pinch the bridge of my nose. "A prison."
