𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 [18+]

- 35 -

The car ride home is quiet, the kind of silence that feels heavy and charged. My mom leans her head back against the seat, clearly drained, while Pen stares out the window blankly, with her earphones plugged in. My dad... is as calm as ever.

When we finally pull into the driveway, I'm already halfway out of the car, desperate to escape the quiet storm brewing inside the house. But as I step inside, I barely make it to the staircase before my dad's voice stops me cold.

"Zara," he calls, his tone even but firm, the way it always is when he's about to say something serious. "Meet me in my office."

I turn slowly, catching the way my mom's lips press into a thin line. She doesn't say anything, but her worried eyes follow me as I nod silently and head toward his office.

The door is already open, and my dad is seated behind his massive oak desk, the one that's always intimidated me just a little. He gestures for me to sit in the chair across from him, and I comply, folding my hands in my lap to keep from fidgeting.

For a long moment, he doesn't speak.

"Is there anything you wish to tell me?" He finally asks.

My mouth opens and then closes. Fuck, what do I say? That he stalks my apartment, carved his initials into my skin and nearly fucked me?

"You want to explain what happened tonight?" My dad asks again, eyes right on me.

"It was just a dance, Dad."

"Just a dance?" He leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "Really, Zara? Is that all that was?"

"Yes, Dad," I say.

"I'm sure you already know the kinda family that boy comes from..." He trails off, "Why would he randomly call you out to dance unless you both are acquaintances?"

I force myself to keep my expression neutral, even as my stomach churns. "We're not acquaintances, Dad," I say, keeping my voice as steady as possible. "I don't even know him that well."

His eyes narrow slightly as if he can see right through me. "Not that well? Zara, men like him don't just pull someone onto the dance floor at an event like this without a reason. Especially not a girl from this family."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes, my frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

"It wasn't some grand conspiracy. He asked, I danced. That's all it was."

He doesn't look convinced. "And what about before tonight? Has he approached you before? Reached out?"

I hesitate for a split second too long.

That's all he needs.

"Zara," he says sharply, leaning forward, his tone brooking no argument. "I'm asking you a question. Answer me."