The crease between my father's brows deepened with every word. His patience was gone.
He tossed his phone aside and took a sip of tea.
"Walter. Show her out."
Virginia clutched at Walter's arm, refusing to leave, still running her mouth.
Only now the panic had taken over, and whatever filter she'd had was gone.
"Mr. Butler, we need that money—we really, really need it, we've got projects that aren't even half done!"
"It's not like you even care about that kind of money, right? So just—just leave it in the bank!"
Walter knew my father's temper better than anyone. He knew those words were enough to set him off.
He leaned close to her ear and hissed: "Who do you think you are, telling Mr. Butler what to do with his money? Get out. Now. You cannot afford the consequences of making him angry."
He was right. My father was already on the edge.
He hadn't asked me why. He didn't need to. He knew I'd parked that money in Nelson's bank out of loyalty, because that was how I'd always been—once I cared about someone, I didn't count the cost. For me to pull every last cent out without a word meant they'd crossed a line I would never forgive.
I came downstairs still half-asleep, and jumped onto my dad's back the way I had since I was a kid.
I wrapped my arms around his neck.
"I'm starving. What are we having for dinner?"
The next second, I locked eyes with Virginia Austin, and she looked like a wreck.
