Breaking the Grid

Don't

His face twisted, part confusion, part disdain. "Blair," he said flatly, his tone making my name sound like an insult. "What the hell are you doing here?"

I squared my shoulders, trying to steady myself as I held his gaze. "Getting coffee," I said curtly. "What are you doing here?"

He snorted, his lip curling. "None of your business. Still playing dress-up in your little race car, huh?"

My jaw tightened, and I forced myself to take a slow, steadying breath. "I'm a Formula 1 driver," I said evenly, though the words felt bitter on my tongue in his presence.

"Yeah, I've seen your name around," he said dismissively, waving a hand. "Big deal. Acting like you're something special. You always were desperate for attention."

I clenched my fists, the anger simmering under my skin. "Why are you even here, Dad?"

Before he could answer, his eyes darted past me, and I felt his gaze land on Kyra and the kids. His face hardened.

"Who's the girl?" he asked, his tone laced with mockery. "Your girlfriend? Figures."

I tensed, my jaw clenching, but I didn't respond. I knew better. This was his game—provoke, prod, and watch the fallout.

He took a step closer, his sneer growing. "You're really living the dream, huh, Blair? A flashy career, a girlfriend, and no morals to speak of. Bet your mom would be so proud."

My stomach churned, but I kept my face neutral, refusing to give him the reaction he wanted.

"Shut up," Kyra snapped, her voice low but full of warning. She stepped closer, her dark eyes blazing as she placed herself slightly in front of me. "You don't get to talk to her like that."

My dad's smirk widened, and he let out a bitter laugh. "Oh, look at this," he said, gesturing toward Kyra. "Blair's little protector. How sweet."

"Sweet?" Kyra spat, her voice rising slightly. "No, it's pathetic. You're pathetic. She deserves better than to have someone like you in her life."

My dad's expression darkened, his smirk faltering for a moment before he leaned in slightly, his tone turning venomous. "You think you know her? You don't. Blair's nothing but a selfish, attention-seeking little girl. Always has been, always will be."

"Stop," I said quietly, my voice steady despite the storm brewing inside me. I wasn't going to let him drag me into this.

But Kyra wasn't done. Her hands balled into fists at her sides as she glared at him, her voice shaking with anger. "You're jealous," she said, her words cutting like a blade. "You can't stand that Blair's made something of herself. That she's loved, respected, and successful. Everything you'll never be."

My dad's eyes narrowed, his face twisting with anger, but then his smirk returned, colder and more calculated. "Loved?" he sneered, his gaze flicking to me. "Please. You think people love her for who she is? They love her for the show. For the image. And once that fades, she'll be left with nothing."

I took a deep breath, keeping my hands steady at my sides. I knew what he was doing—poking and prodding, trying to get a rise out of me. But I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"She's got you fooled, though," he continued, his tone almost mocking as he looked at Kyra. "Poor thing. Falling for someone who's only ever cared about herself. Don't worry, though. She'll drop you the moment you're not useful anymore."

Kyra's breathing quickened, her chest rising and falling as she glared at him. "You're disgusting," she hissed, her voice trembling with barely contained rage.