Page 121 of Anton

Breakfast at my parents’ house is a full production. Platters of eggs, biscuits, fruit, bacon, and everything else one can imagine. Mama gets personally offended if anyone ever leaves here hungry.

Usually, I love it. This morning, I mostly love that coffee exists.

Greer sits beside me, with Nash, Theo, and Cole opposite us. Jace sits next to Rue, my mama to her right and Daddy at the head of the table.

Mama’s eyes move to me while she cuts into her pancake. “You left so abruptly last night. Was everything okay?”

I take a hot swallow of my coffee and figure out what the hell to say.

“I’m sorry.” I set the mug down. “I started to feel ill and needed to come home.”

Mama nods, but the sympathy on her face does not erase the disappointment there too. “You should have told Zachary, sweetheart. Poor guy was standing by the bar waiting for you with a drink, and we had no idea where you’d gone until one of the staff said you left through the back.”

“That was rude of me. I’ll apologize to him personally.”

Greer snickers under her breath, and when I glance over, she pops a brow. She isn’t buying a word of it.

“Maybe she ran because you two keep trying to set her up with some uptight hedge-fund-looking ass—” Cole glances at Rue, who is happily buttering a piece of toast, then clears his throat. “Asset manager.”

Nash coughs into his coffee, and Greer presses her lips together to smother a laugh. Theo keeps eating, though, completely unfazed by our brother’s antics.

Daddy lowers his fork and levels Cole with a warning look. “Cut it out.”

“What?” He leans back in his chair, flipping a hand in the air. “I cleaned it up.”

“Mm-hmm. Don’t make me disinherit you.”

“I’m just speaking the truth, but no one in this family likes that very much.”

“Cole,” Mama warns. “Behave, would you?”

Daddy turns his attention back to me, his expression gentler. “We’re not trying to force anything on you, baby girl. I’m only trying to look out for you.”

“I know. But I’m pretty capable of looking out for myself, Daddy.”

He studies me. Maybe to him, I’m still the little girl with scraped knees and muddy boots who used to run through this house with her pockets full of horse treats. But I’m not her anymore.

“I know you are.” He swallows thickly. “Sometimes I forget you’re not little anymore.”

My chest aches at that, and before I can figure out what to say, Rue comes to the rescue.

“I made a friend,” she announces dramatically, and every adult at the table turns to her.

“Oh?” Mama’s smile warms. “And who might that be, sweetie pie?”

“His name is Lev, and I want you all to know I love him and we’re going to get married like Daddy and Savannah.”

Jace groans, slapping a palm over his face.

Mama looks delighted. “Well, that’s exciting. Lev who?”

Daddy furrows a brow. “Do we know this Lev?”

“Lev,” Jace mutters. “Kirill Marinov’s son. You met him.”

Daddy’s nods. “Oh, right. Sweet kid. The father…not so much.”

“This conversation just got interesting.” Cole leans in, a grin on his face, his bright blue eyes set with interest.