Page 89 of The Love You Fight For
My father’s voice pulls me from my thoughts, and when I look at him, he’s frowning at me as if I’m the one who has done something wrong.
“Excuse me?”
He sighs.
“Our every move must be calculated and purposeful. We are in the public eye now more than ever before. We must be wary of how we behave. We must act with decorum.”
It takes a moment for me to realize what he’s saying, and when it sinks in, my jaw literally drops.
“You’re fucking your campaign finance manager, and you’re trying to lecture me on decorum?”
“Samantha, lower your voice.”
“I will not,” I shout. “I will not lower my voice.”
“You will, or so help me, Samantha, you will regret it.”
I know what he’s implying. He’ll cut me off. I’ll no longer have access to his money. He’ll take away my trust fund.
God, I don’t fucking care. I’m so tired of pretending that I care about any of it. I’m so fucking sick of having to make myself into someone I hate—someone proud to wear the name Harper.
I bite my tongue so hard, I taste blood in my mouth.
“Appearances are the only thing that matters, Samantha, especially right now. I do not want to hear you bring up that family again. We do not air our dirty laundry in public. We do not need that kind of media attention. What’s in the past needs to stay dead and buried, especially if you want to continue to enjoy the life of privilege to which you’re accustomed.”
I work his statement over in my head. He doesn’t want me to bring upthat family, but he’s said nothing about the pictures of me with Chris. About my relationship with him.
Does he not know? Hope blooms in my chest.
Maybe Ashton was so concerned with looking foolish that he carried out everything himself. Maybe he hasn’t actually told my father anything and my relationship with Chris can be left off my father’s radar.
“What exactly are you saying?” I ask carefully, and he pins me with a glare so cold, I have to suppress a shiver. Not because I fearhim, but because his blue eyes are like looking into a mirror, and it makes me hate myself.
“I’m saying stay away from that family,” he repeats. “Stop having clandestine rendezvous with that boy. Put aside the fact that he isbeneathyou, that history is one that we do not want unearthed.”
I pause. Scan his face. Run back through his words...
“This is more than just an affair, isn’t it?”
He doesn’t answer me. He just glares. He won’t tell me anything else.
“I’m twenty-six,” I say angrily. “You can’t police who I date.”
He arches a brow.
“Can’t I?”
He straightens his tie and smooths the lapels of his suit jacket.
“One of our biggest donors is having a charity dinner next week. You will attend as Ashton’s date. You will not see the Casper boy again. You will not bring up that family again. You will do as I say, and you will play by my rules, or you will have nothing left. I will stop paying for your condo. I will stop paying for your car. I will cut off all your credit cards. I will take you out of the wills. I will dissolve your trust fund. You will be destitute, and you will deserve it.”
I narrow my eyes.
“How do you think cutting me off would look to your voters? Can’t play the family man if you’re not being supportive of your family.”
He shrugs.
“You’d be surprised how easily I can smooth it over. Now if you’ll excuse me. I have a meeting.”
