Chapter 41 His Unspoken Truth: The Threat He Faced
Cade
I felt a wave of heat wash over my face. The shame was so heavy it felt like it was crushing my lungs.
Sloane looked over at me, and for a split second, I saw a flash of deep sadness in her eyes, not for herself, but for me. Her eyes were brimming with a liquid shine, like she was holding back a flood.
She grabbed her bag and stood up. I watched her through the window as she stood on the sidewalk. I saw her shoulders rise and fall as she took a deep breath of the cold air.
My father was treating her like a trespasser in front of everyone, and I was just standing there, letting it happen.
I wanted to run after her. I wanted to leave this gold cage and never look back. But I stayed. I stayed because I was paralyzed by the man standing next to me.
I watched a cab pull up and take her away. My heart felt like it was being ripped out of my chest.
I turned back to the table, and the sight of my father sitting in her seat made me feel sick. He looked so calm, so relaxed, like he had just finished a routine business meeting instead of destroying the person I loved.
He raised a hand and signaled the waiter. He didn't even have to speak; the waiter just nodded and hurried off to get him a drink.
The restaurant was trying to go back to normal, but the air felt thin and cold. The soft music playing over the speakers sounded sour, and the expensive food on my plate looked like a pile of trash.
The heat in my face wasn't shame anymore. It was turning into something else. It was turning into a hot, bubbling anger that started in my stomach and worked its way up to my chest. Watching Sloane walk out that door had broken something inside me.
I looked at him, my hands clenching into fists under the table. I summoned every bit of boldness I had left, forcing myself to find my voice.
"Why?" I asked. My voice was lower than I expected, but it was steady.
My father didn't look up. He was busy adjusting the gold cufflink on his sleeve. "Why what, Cade?"
"Why do you hate her so much?" I asked, leaning forward. "Why would you do that to her? She didn't say a word to you. She’s never been anything but kind."
He finally looked at me. His eyes were cold, like two pieces of flint. He didn't answer right away. He just sat there, waiting for the waiter to return.
The waiter placed a glass of dark amber liquid on the table and vanished as quickly as he’d appeared. My father took a slow sip, his silence acting like a wall he was building between us.
My boldness was increasing now.
"Answer me," I said. My voice wasn't loud. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of making another scene. But I didn't back down. "I want to know why you keep treating her like that."
My father set his glass down with a sharp clink against the marble. "Know your place, Cade," he said, his voice dropping into that dangerous, quiet rumble he used when he was about to end a conversation. "Do not speak to me like that before I have to remind you exactly who is sitting at this table."
Usually, that would have been enough to make me go quiet. But all I could think about was the look of heartbreak on Sloane's face and the way her shoulders had slumped as she walked toward that cab.
"I'm not going to just let this go, Dad," I said, my heart hammering against my ribs. "What did she ever do to you? Tell me one thing she did to deserve being kicked out like a dog."
He looked at me for a long moment, then he let out a short, dry laugh. "She didn't do anything, Cade."
I blinked, totally surprised. "Then why?"
"It isn't about the girl," he said. "It’s about her family. The Hartfords are the problem. They’ve always been the problem."
"That doesn't make any sense," I argued. "Sloane isn't her family. She’s her own person. You haven't even sat down once to talk to her. You don't know her at all."
"I don't have to," he snapped. He finished the rest of his drink in one swallow and set the glass aside. He leaned over the table, his face turning serious in a way that made the hair on my arms stand up. "I’ve dealt with her family before. The Hartfords only look out for themselves."
"You're wrong about her," I said, but he cut me off.
"Listen carefully," he said, and I knew this was the end of the discussion. " I have told you before, and I am telling you for the last time. Stay away from Sloane. You stay away from every single person with that last name."
I felt a cold chill run through me. "Or what?"
His eyes narrowed. "Or I will bring her grandmother’s business to the ground. I have the connections, and I have the power to make sure the Hartford empire is nothing but a memory by next month. I will ruin her family. I will make sure they have nothing left."
I felt a wave of genuine fear wash over me. I knew my father didn't make empty threats.
He saw the fear in my eyes and nodded, satisfied. "I thought so," he said.
He stood up, adjusted his coat, and walked away without looking back. He left me sitting there in the golden light of the restaurant, surrounded by the smell of expensive food I couldn't eat.
I felt like I was in a cage, one made of gold and velvet, but a cage nonetheless. I was paralyzed. I wanted to fight him, but how do you fight someone who can destroy the person you’re fighting for?
A short while later, my phone buzzed on the table. I picked it up with shaking fingers. The blue light of the screen felt blinding in the dim room. I stared at the message for a long time.
Please just text me later when you're alone. I took a cab back to my place.