Chapter 175: A NOT-SO SIMPLE CHOICE

Bohdi’s POV

I arrived as anxious as I left.

By the time I was called into Father’s study, I would have chewed my fingernails down to the nubs if I was in the habit. I stood outside for longer than I wanted to admit before I knocked once.

No answer. I stepped inside anyway.

Father didn’t look up, as I shut the door behind me.

He sat behind his desk, his attention fixed on his phone, his thumb tapping slowly against the screen. The faint glow reflected off his glasses, and it was almost like he was hiding his eyes.

I stood there, waiting, my hands dangling at my sides. And I waited for a while, so much so I fidgeted from one foot to the other, something I tried not to do in front of my father.

“Bohdi, have I not given you everything?”

I immediately stood at attention, fixing the unconscious slouch in my back just in time for him to look up. My brows furrowed, and I nodded. “Yes sir.”

He laughed almost immediately.

It was low and contained; a sound that sent a ripple of unease through me. It wasn’t amusement, not at all. “Then why?” He scoffed. “I thought, we'd agreed that you'd put this gay nonsense behind you.”

I swallowed heavily, a chill running down my spine. There was no way he could have known, but then here he was sounding like he was sure. “I don't—”

“No matter,” he cut in, almost dismissively. “I’ve already sent the message.”

My throat tightened. He wasn't hearing me, didn't want to hear me. “What message?”

But before he could answer, I shook my head. I was afraid of what needed to convince this man. “Father, you're not listening to me. You seem to be so sure that I'm gay and you haven't even given me a chance to defend myself.”

“I have good reason to think you are,” he replied. “You disobeyed me for one, you didn’t bring him.”

Reason to think…

If there was one thing I knew about my father was that he didn't use words all willy-nilly, so that meant he wasn't completely sure.

“I'm not gay,” I said strongly, meeting his eyes for just a moment, no more. “I live with my roommate because I forgot to book a room and I was… ashamed that I had, sir. I still am.”

I kept my face stoic, knowing that he was watching me. My father believed he could tell I'd someone was lying by the way they helped themselves, that men with nothing to hide didn't cower underneath a strong gaze.

It was exactly because I had something to hide that I didn't cower.

I stood there for a whole minute before he nodded. “I don't think I fully believe you because you're young, and one of the follies of youth is foolishness.”

He breathed out, glancing at me from underneath his lashes before continuing. “But I trust you know what's best for the family, what is best for you.”

I nodded vehemently. “I do, sir.”

But you will move out of that room,” Father said, cutting through the air with precision. His voice had flattened completely, stripped of anything resembling warmth. “Effective immediately. I have arranged a new room for you in another building.”

I stared at him, my thoughts scrambling. I didn't… want to move. “Father, I—”

“You will not speak to that boy,” he continued, as though I hadn't spoken. “You will not see that boy. You will not even think about that boy. Is that understood?”

I swallowed the immediate protest about to burst off my tongue, that would be very suspicious. Instead I said, “he's my friend sir, we study together.”

“You will find other friends. Is that understood?” he repeated, louder now.

“Yes, sir,” I said automatically, even as the room seemed to feel like it had bars that were closing in around me.

I shouldn’t see Maverick, not anymore.

The thought didn’t settle right when all I wanted to do was go back to him, cuddle and talk about how controlling my father was.

I could refuse.

I had been thinking about that more. I could walk away from all of this— his rules, his control. I could just tell him no, and do what I pleased.

A pipe dream.

Walking away wasn’t simple. It wasn’t freedom, not really. It was uncertain and unstable.

I would need a job. Something steady enough to carry me through school, something that paid enough to keep me afloat while still maintaining the grades I had worked hard for.

What could I even do? What would pay someone with no experience and no real skill other than his university course that much money?

Nothing, that was the answer.

Look at Maverick, having to get into a ring to eat. I definitely couldn’t fight in a ring. They'd beat me down and I wouldn't be able to get back up.

Besides, who would help him take care of Rocky and his family if I couldn't.

My chest tightened. Maverick didn’t need me, nor exactly. He had proven time and time again that he could take care of himself. But that didn’t stop the quiet pull in my chest, the need to be there anyway.

Just because he could didn't mean he should. If I could help, I wanted to.

It would be ungrateful even to throw all this, all this privilege and comfort, away when anyone would kill for it.

Still I thought about the club— the music, the blur of lights, the way Maverick had looked in and out of the ring.

I guessed I wouldn’t be going back there.

“It shouldn't be hard,” Father continued, still watching me. “After all you've known him for what? Two months, three?”

It felt like a test, and I didn't flinch. I opened my mouth, searching for something— anything —that might shift this in my favour, even slightly.

Nothing came.

So I straightened, forcing my voice to stay steady. “No, sir.”

He watched me for a moment, then nodded, satisfied. “Good. And call your fiancée.”

That was it.

I turned and walked out, closing the door behind me with careful control. I didn’t let myself rush. I didn’t let anything show.

Just until I’m done with school… All this is just until I can take care of myself comfortably.

Besides, this wasn't the first time I had lied point-blank to his face. I just had to be even more careful.