Page 219 of Breeding Her: The Red Flag Edition
What the fuck was she doing here?
Then it hit me—her course must be over. Of course. End of term.
Fuck.
I inhaled sharply and scrubbed a hand down my face.
“That’s fine,” I said briskly. “Put her in the usual room. The one her mother used to dump her in.”
“Oh, thank goodness. I mean—yes, sir,” Connie stammered.
I hung up without another word.
So.
Everly was home.
And the timing couldn’t be worse—or better.
I closed my office door, still turning over the news in my head.
Everly was back under my roof.
Curious, I sat down and searched her name. Plenty of Mehta’s came up—doctors, influencers, lawyers—but none of them were her. No selfies. No graduation shots. No tagged photos. Nothing.
What kind of twenty-something had no digital footprint?
It wasn’t just unusual—it was strategic. Like someone had wiped her off the grid, or she’d done it herself.
I frowned and pulled up Eris’s profile instead.
Predictable. Her page was a fucking shrine to herself—holidays in Santorini, yoga retreats, salon selfies, champagne dinners, diamond-studded wrists. A curated fantasy for her sycophants.
But there wasn’t a single picture of her daughter.
Not one.
No birthday post. No graduation photo. No mention of Everly at all.
Fucking hell. I leaned back, jaw tightening.
Whatever else I thought of that girl… being raised by that woman had to do damage.
Eris Cahill wasn’t just a narcissist.
She was a fucking bitch.
?? ?? ??
The car slowed as Lawrence turned into the long driveway. I couldn’t remember the last time I left work early. Hell, I wasn’t even sure if I ever had. But today, I had to meet the daughter. Size her up. Decide what the hell to do with her.
She wasn’t mine. Not by blood. Not by bond. She was a grown ass woman now, and more importantly, she shared fifty percent of Eris’s DNA. That alone made her suspect.
Lawrence stepped out and opened the door. I gave him a tight nod before turning toward the dark wooden double front doors.
I stepped inside and was hit with silence. It was quiet in that way that made you think something was off. I set my leather bag on the side table and moved through the open hall, scanning for signs of life.
Then I heard it—voices.
