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

C H A P T E R 3 2
“I
wasn’t expecting to see you here,” he said.
My heart stopped beating for a millisecond. I
turned around and faced him. Being stoic in front of my
father would prove to be far more complicated than doing it
in front of Elias. This was the man who raised me. The first
man I loved. Also, the one who banished me without a
second thought the first time I fucked up. And yet, with him
in front of me I couldn’t seem to summon the anger I should
be feeling. He had bags under his eyes and his black hair was
thinning, leaving a crescent-shaped, nearly bald patch on
the front of his head. It had been nearly eight months since I
last saw him and, in that time, he looked like he’d aged a
decade.
“Father,” I said.
“Whose friend are you?” His gaze scrutinized me.
“Pilar?”
“No. I mean, yes, we’re friendly, but I don’t think Pilar
can invite people to this.”
“Hm.” His eyes narrowed slightly. It took everything in
me not to cower. “The Queen Mother then. Your mother told
me you planned a ball for them.”
“Mother also planned the ball. She does own half of the
company, you know.”