Page 378 of Double or Nothing

“This interrogation is unnecessary. You don’t need to worry yourself with the affairs of Parker Capital.”

“I don’t give a fuck about the affairs of Parker Capital, Dad, I give a fuck about Bryce!”

“Alice!” Mum says, but I hold my hand up to her, this is between me and my father.

“I know Bryce,” I say. “He wouldn’t walk away without a reason. Not a damn good one.”

Christopher lifts his wine glass. Clears his throat.

“Bryce made his loyalties clear. And it’s not the first time, is it? It was his own doing, not your father’s. Bill isn’t the one to blame here.”

I look over at my asshole fiancé. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? You’re making Bryce out as some kind of villain now, are you? Yeah, right.”

Christopher pats his lips with a napkin.

“Bryce isn’t quite as loyal to your father as he’s always claimed to be, that much is obvious.”

“Bullshit!” I shout. “That’s the biggest lie that’s come out of your smug arsed mouth.”

“Enough!” Dad barks. “Stop this nonsense, Alice, and eat your bloody dinner.”

Nonsense.

That’s all I am to him. Nonsense. An escapist teenager still under the family wing.

And maybe I have been. Maybe I should have grown my own backbone sooner and believed in myself enough to walk on my own two feet. Like everyone else has to, unless they’re lucky enough to be the daughter of a billionaire.

But that role comes from a life of service, as well as reward.

“I don’t want my bloody dinner. I want the truth. And answers!”

“Alice,” Dad says, meeting me with cold eyes. “Whatever this Reid infatuation is, it’s still affecting you. And it has to stop.”

“This isn’t about Jack. It’s about Bryce.”

Dad tips his head at me, his expression full of utter disdain.

“Bryce who just happens to be friends with the idiot casino owner that caused this bullshit in the first place. The idiot you’re in love with, in your own words. Grow up, Alice. Jack Reid is a player, nothing more.”

“A player concerned enough to track me down and tell me you’ve been blocking viewings of my artwork.”

Dad stills. Dead.

“That’s temporary.”

My whole body tenses. Tears prickling.

“Temporary until when exactly?”

“Until you’re in a position to handle the viewings.”

“I’ve spent my whole life trying to create a career. A genuine career. And you’ve taken that away from me.”

My father slams his cutlery down.

“A genuine career?! You don’t have any comprehension what a genuine career is. You’ve been splashing paint around since you were five years old and never grew out of it. It was indulged because you have the Parker name. That’s your career, you stupid girl.”

“Not after the auction, it isn’t.”