The-Sinful-King-By-Claire-Contreras-PDF

“Have you spoken to your father?”
“Nope.” I bit my lip and looked away. Even though I’d
never been close to my father, the fact that he hadn’t even
responded to my texts after our fallout hurt.
“He’ll come around. We all make mistakes.”
“Some more public than others.”
“Well, yes.” His lips pressed together. “But you’ve been
hiding out long enough. He can’t expect you to stay away,
especially not with as well as your company is doing. Your
mother told me you planned the Versailles ball for the
prince.”
“I did.”
“That’s massive.”
“It was. It is.”
He frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s . . . ” I shook my head. “I have a lot on my
mind.”
“Well, know that I’m proud of you. Your father is too,
even though he won’t say it.” Tio Antonio set a hand on my
shoulder. “Sometimes parents don’t want to celebrate their
children’s successes because they think somehow it’ll help
them work harder. My father told me that when he was on
his deathbed and it always stuck with me. He regretted it.”
He shrugged. “Too late, obviously. By then your father and I
were shaped. He’s a lot like him. It’s not a bad thing, but I
can see how he’d make the same mistakes with you. He’ll
come around.”
“Yeah, probably when he’s on his own deathbed.” I wiped
a tear from my face. My father would never admit he was
wrong. “It’s fine. I don’t need my father’s approval.”
“That’s the biggest lie we tell ourselves.” Uncle Antonio
laughed. “And then we all end up in therapy.”
“You’re hilarious.” I stuck my tongue out, even though I
knew he wasn’t kidding about therapy or anything he’d said.