Free Pretend It's Love by Stefanie London

him. “I never asked for your help.”
    “You’re throwing away a bright future for nothing.”
    “A bright future?” She laughed, the humorless sound echoing in the quiet room. “Will it be filled with failed marriages and abandoned children like yours? If so, I don’t want it.”
    “I never abandoned you.”
    “I’m twenty-five years old, you can stop lying to me now.” Tears pricked the back of her eyelids, much to her disgust.
    The angry silence radiated off her father like a toxic fume. “You never wanted for anything growing up. I gave you the best education, the best toys, the best food.”
    “What I wanted was a mother and father who could stand to be in the same room and who didn’t bad-mouth each other.”
    “Your mother and I divorced years ago, you can’t hold that against me.” He waved his hand, shooing away her concerns as if they were nothing more than an irritating insect.
    “No, especially since it’s clear marriage means nothing to you. Speaking of, how is wife number five?”
    “Julianna is my fourth wife,” he said, cold eyes raking over her. “And I will not have you talk to me with such disrespect.”
    “You turn up unannounced to berate me. What did you expect?” The words rushed out of Libby before she could stop them; goading her father would do no good, but the clench of his jaw gave her a millisecond of satisfaction.
    “In case you’ve forgotten, I own this house. You live here practically rent-free. That means I will turn up whenever I damn well please.”
    The chilly tone of his voice rankled Libby. She hated that he could sound so emotionless when talking to her. But that was exactly the point, her relationship with her father had never been about emotion. She was merely a trophy for his collection.
    “I want you to leave.” She would either scream or cry or hurl something at him if he didn’t vanish from her sight in the next thirty seconds.
    “I will leave when I am damn well ready.”
    “She wants you out of here.” Paul walked through the entranceway into the living room, his face hard. “I suggest you do it.”
    Libby’s breath caught in her throat. Having Paul here was going to make it worse. The last thing she wanted was for someone else to witness this humiliating exchange with her father. “How did you get in here?”
    “The front door was unlocked. I heard yelling.” He looked from Libby to her father and back again. His forehead creased, and his shoulders bunched around his neck as though he sensed the tension in the air and had embodied it.
    “And you are?” Her father turned to Paul, his brow quirked in disdain.
    “Libby’s boyfriend.” He folded his arms across his chest, unflinching in the face of Kirk Harris’s legendary withering stare.
    “Seems you’ve chosen your men as well as you’ve chosen your career,” he said, looking back to Libby and shaking his head. “Why won’t you let me help you?”
    “Because you’re not trying to help me .” Her head swam, and she pressed her fingertips to her temples. “You’re doing this for yourself.”
    “How can you say that?”
    For a moment she wondered if there was a hint of emotion in his voice, a small crack in the tough outer shell that might allow her a peek inside. Did he really care about her deep down? She hated that even now a part of her still hoped it might be true.
    “I don’t want to talk about this, Dad. Please just go.”
    Paul took a step toward her father, his six-foot plus frame giving him an inch or two. Dressed all in black, he seemed even bigger. Stronger.
    “Do I need to make you leave?” Paul asked. Unlike her father, his tone was filled with undisguised emotion.
    Kirk tilted his chin. “I own this place.”
    “That doesn’t give you the right to talk to Libby like that. Apologize to her and then leave.” His dark eyes flashed like black fire.
    “I will do as I please.”
    Paul grabbed her father by the shoulder. The grip wouldn’t be enough to do any