IVY'S POV
My legs felt glued to the ground the moment my father turned and walked away.
I knew that look too well the burning fire in his eyes, the cold, strategic rage of a man already planning something terrible behind closed doors. Nicholas might be powerful, terrifying in his quiet dominance, but my father was a strategist.
Whatever silent threat he had just made without words, it wasn't good. It was the kind of look that promised war wrapped in velvet.
Why did he want me back this much?
Was it love? A sudden, desperate fatherly instinct to protect me from this monstrous man who now claimed me like property? Or was it something darker.. something I couldn't yet see? I couldn't place it. After years of being treated like dirt beneath his shoes, this sudden hunger for my return felt wrong.
I tilted my head slightly and looked at Nicholas. He sat there motionless, staring at the door my father had slammed shut, his expression unreadable, almost bored.
