“Testy this morning, are we? I never thought I’d see the day. The legendary Lukas Lazarev, losing his composure. Over a girl.” I shake my head sadly. “You know, Father, all these years watching you operate, and I never once saw you rattled. You didn’t even look this upset when Mother died.”
“Watch your mouth,” he warns again through gritted teeth.
“I’ll watch whatever I please.”
“You think I don’t know what you’re doing?” I push harder. “The trips, the doting? It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic.”
“Or what?” I stand, matching his height even if I’ll never match his breadth. He’s a wall. He’s always been a wall. But walls can crack if you know where to prod. “You’ll do to me what you did to Mother?”
His face freezes. A mask over a mask.
“You killed her,” I spit. “Everyone knows it. The who
