Page 7 of Damsel in Disguise

Another long pause stretches between us.

Dad studies me with an expression I don’t see often. The kind he reserves only for boardrooms and billion-dollar acquisitions.

“I don’t think you understand what you’re asking,” he says with an exhale.

“I do.”

“You think you’re asking to attend a school. What you’re actually asking is for me to let my only daughter move to another continent,” his voice remains calm.

I drop my arms and brace my palms on his desk, leaning over. “You let Asher leave.”

Something akin to hurt flickers across his face.

“I let Asher make his own choices. And look how that turned out.”

“He left.”

His jaw tightens. “Exactly.”

The answer catches me off guard. For a second, I forget to argue.

“Do you know what your brother did after I agreed to his stupid decision?” he asks quietly.

I don’t answer. Because I know too much.

“Do you know how many times I had to clean up after him? How many people wanted him dead before he was barely twenty-one?”

I look away. “Asher is different.”

“To put it in simple terms, he’s stupid,” Dad sharpens his tone.

“You know what? I’m done,” I back off. “If you think I’m your daughter, do me this one favor and never try to talk me out of Oxford again,” and I turn on my heels, already heading to leave.

If I have to stay in Australia, I’ll find somewhere else to live alone too. Just like Asher. Until I find my way to England.

“You’re both too intelligent for your own good. Both stubborn. Both incapable of accepting the word no. And both are too convinced to believe you’re invincible.”

The word halts me mid-motion. “We’re not you, Dad,” I say without turning back.

“You’re worse.”

My mouth falls open as I whirl around, only to find him reaching for a tablet sitting on his desk.

A few taps later, he turns the screen toward me.

I glance down and freeze.

Academic records. Competition results. Engineering certifications. Advanced online coursework. Research programs.

Everything I’ve completed over the last year. Some of it I don’t even remember telling him about.

“You think I haven’t noticed?”

I slowly lift my gaze to meet his burning amber ones. For a split second, they look awfully like Asher’s.

“You’ve spent fourteen months teaching yourself university-level engineering.”

I blink.