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Call it a sixth sense, or whatever the fuck you want, but I knew tonight was going to be one of those nights

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Call it a sixth sense, or whatever the fuck you want, but I knew tonight was going to be one of those nights.

Earlier today, my father had demanded I report to the family home, or face all the things he warned me about at dinner. Demotion. Kicked off Team Six. My trust fund emptied.

Boo-fucking-hoo.

I didn't care. I had a house. I had Camilla. And that was all I needed. I'd even told West he could come to Virginia and stay with us until school started—but he was hellbent on doing this play, so whatever.

Then Easton and Nora had crawled up my ass when I wouldn't come home, and so did Ma. I shrugged them off, even though I felt guilty. But, somewhere deep down, I knew my dad wouldn't let me get away with disobeying him.

I knew he'd come for me. Whatever he wanted, he'd make it known.

When I reached the front gates, six security guards were standing in front of a barricade. My father's car pulled right up.

I set one hand on the silver Mercedes my father was driving, and put the other in my pocket. Chewing on the stick of the lollipop.

"Get in the car, Southron," my dad barked. His eyes were narrowed, and his face was splotchy and red. "We're going for a drive."

Growing up, I'd been trained to obey his every command. Be here. Say this. Dress this way. Be tough. Be tougher.

Words have power. The second they escaped from your mouth, they took on a life of their own. I cast a look back towards the fountain. Camilla was watching me with a hand over her heart, standing out on the lawn.

Damn. It hurt knowing I'd done that. I'd made her feel like that.

I hadn't been planning on telling her I loved her tonight, but the second I let it slip, it all became real.

She loved me too. It wasn't just hearing her say it. I could feel it. And to be honest, I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt loved.

My dad didn't love anyone. Not me, not West. No one but himself.

I turned back to my dad, feeling untethered from my need to obey him. I wasn't sure if I deserved Camilla's love, but she was right. I didn't need to take his shit.

"You need to leave, or they're going to call the cops. That's all I came to say."

My hand slid off the car, and I backed up a pace. His voice came like a whip.

"Get in this car right now, Southron Jae Tenney, or so help me, I'll make you—and that woman of yours—regret it."

I stared back at him, eyes narrowed. A satisfied grin had broke over my father's face. I wondered if I had given Connor this look, or the restaurant manager who wanted to keep West from playing the piano, or any number of other people who I intimidated.

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