First message
My father’s voice is a blade, sharp and merciless.” You disgrace this family with every scandal you create.”
I stand before him like a schoolboy caught in some childish folly, though I am long past the age of lessons. The scent of old parchment and burning wood fills the room, but it does nothing to smother the bitterness in his tone.
“Do you think your name is yours alone to tarnish? Do you think your reckless indulgences won’t stain this house, this legacy I built?” His gaze is icy, his fingers curled around his desk as if restraining himself from striking me. I say nothing.
“The wife of a minister?” His voice drops lower, more dangerous. “You bed women with no discretion. You invite ruin upon yourself with no thought to consequence.”
The slap comes swift and precise. Not from anger, but calculation. A reminder. The taste of copper blooms on my tongue, but I don’t move. I won’t give him the satisfaction. A knock at the door interrupts whatever lecture he was about to give me