CHAPTER 60 THE FATHER OF LIES
"You think you can just sit there in that leather chair and play god with my life again?" I yell, my voice shaking as I slam my hands on the cold steel console.
The monitors on the wall flicker, sending lines of static across Arthur's face.
Arthur doesn't flinch. He just rests his wrinkled hands on his silver cane, tapping the metal head with a steady rhythm that makes my stomach turn.
"Still dramatic," Arthur says calmly.
"Shut up," I hiss.
"You always had your father's temper, Aria," Arthur says through the speaker, his voice flat and empty of warmth. "But you lack his calculation. That's why you're on the side of the glass."
"Don't mention my father," I snap, my chest heaving as I try to keep my hand from shaking on my pistol grip. "You sold my brother, let them hang Damien, and watched Patricia bleed out in that kitchen while you sat in the dark."
Arthur's expression doesn't change.
