He didn't target Jonathan. He wanted to see Sierra's father clearly—without the influence, without the pressure. Wanted to see what the man was truly made of.
Sierra was watching him, pale and rigid in a dress her mother had probably chosen, looking like she wanted to disappear into the floor.
Phei didn't hesitate.
He crossed the room—ignoring Jonathan's narrowing gaze, ignoring Roxanne's flustered attempt to compose herself, ignoring everything except her.
"Hey." He pulled her into his arms.
Sierra melted. All the ice in her veins cracked and thawed in an instant. All the tension, the fear, the weight of being caught between him and her parents—it dissolved the moment he held her.
She pressed her face into his chest, breathing him in, her whole body softening.
"You came," she whispered.
"Always my love, always."
He held her there and let the moment stretch. Let everyone in this room see exactly where his priorities were.
