Daphne and I chat amiably on the way to breakfast, her telling me all the things she wants to see in the city, me giving my own recommendations. But when we turn into the breakfast room, I go a little still to see that it's just my dad sitting at the head of the table, having a quiet cup of coffee while he scrolls through some document on his tablet.

He looks up when we come in. Daphne freezes awkwardly beside me as dad stands up, giving us both a wide smile.

"Daphne," he says, giving her a little bow that makes her blush. “As much as I'd love to have breakfast with you as well, Ella's set up a little something for you and the boys down the hall." He gestures to the hallway behind her. "I think my daughter and I need a little moment alone to have a chat."

My eyes go a little wide because...well, I mean, I don't think I've done anything to be in trouble... Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

But did mom tell dad I snuck out with Jackson last night!?

Does it even count as sneaking out if you don't leave your house!?

little squeaky as she scurries out into the hall. She looks back at me anxiously, though,

and nodding, knowing that's the only other room mom would use

and move to the seat at his side, which is already set for breakfast, a cup of coffee waiting for me. "A bit late," he says, glancing at the clock as I seat myself. I glance at it too, and nod, realizing that this is more of a brunch

I say, giving my dad my

Ariel," he murmurs as one of the cooks comes into the

chef sets a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of me, my favorite breakfast since I was a little girl. I smile my thanks at the chef, who

eggs onto my toast and making a little sandwich for myself by folding the slice of toast in half, "then...why the one-on-one?" "Because," he says, settling back in his chair with his coffee in his hand,

at dad, anxious again because - well, because dad and I don't really talk about romantic stuff. But when I see him clear his throat and flick his gaze away, I realize that he feels just as awkward as I

sighs, a growl rumbling in his chest as he looks down into his coffee.

Cora says you would have locked me up," I say, taking

flicking his eyes up to me. I squawk a little, horrified at the idea, and then cough a bit as toast crumbs get stuck in my throat. Dad laughs, leaning forward to pat me on the back. "Or I'll just let your mates watch you eat," he murmurs, "that should be enough to make them run for

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