Page 185 of Knot Their Starlet

Is it because I met my dad?

I shake my head. I can’t think about him right now. My mom will smell it on me, or something crazy like that.

I let myself in with the key.

“Mom?”

“Up here!”

Her voice comes from upstairs. I toe off my shoes by the door, drop my bag on the entry table, and make my way to the stairs.

Stuart’s coat is hung by the door, but I don’t see him anywhere. Maybe him being here is a good sign, though, because then maybe my mom will be less likely to spiral.

The thought sits heavy in my stomach as I climb.

She appears at the top landing, dressed in only a silk robe, her hair wild and chaotic, as if she hasn’t bothered to get ready this morning.

“Mom?” I ask, blinking up at her. “Hey, are you alright?”

I make it to the top of the landing with her. There are dark bruises under her eyes, and they’re red-rimmed and swollen.

“I know.” Her voice is flat, almost quiet. It’s so much scarier than if she were yelling or screaming, though I’m sure that’s coming soon.

A chill runs down my spine. We’ve done this dance before, for tons of things she’s deemed to be fuck-ups over the course of my teenage years.

“What?”

“I know, Andromeda.”

She takes a step towards me, and I hold my ground on instinct, even though my chest has gone tight.

“What are you talking about?”

“This all started when you started that fake relationship with that disgusting male omega.” Her voice is still quiet and breathy. “I should’ve known. He and his entire team have been filling your head with⁠—”

“Mom, Beck has nothing to do with⁠—”

“You went to his house!” she screams it. Right in my face, loud enough for my ears to ring.

I take a step back before I can stop myself, my back bumping up against one of the framed photos of her from a big magazine shoot over a decade ago.

“How could you? How could you?” she shrieks, her hands coming up to grip her hair. “That man, that—that monster⁠—”

“Mom—” my voice cracks. She’s losing it. Her eyes are wide like a feral animal, and it’s all my fault.

She found out I saw my dad.

That’s the only explanation for this.

There’s nothing Beck or his team could’ve done to get her this upset. Well, other than bring me there. They’d be guilty by association.

She pulls her phone out of the pocket of her robe, her arm flailing wildly.

I don’t even register that she’s thrown it until it hits me in the face.

The sharp crack of the screen against my cheekbone lights up my whole skull with white static. I make a sound I don’t mean to make, my hand flying up to my face.

“His house.” The words tear out of her. “That house. Your father’s. That evil devil of a man. You walked into that house. After everything I’ve—after everything he did to us—how could you? How could you!”