Page 116 of Ruthless Dream

You’re so fucking stupid, Adeline.

My forehead creases and my jaw aches. The elevator doors open, and I blink away tears.

“Hey!” Billie calls out. She must have just arrived. “You okay?”

I nod, forcing a smile on my face. I peel off the coat and hand it to Rachel.

“Thank you so much!” She hugs it to her chest, pleased about having it back. “Perfect timing, because I was just working on our coat closet.”

She runs down the hall.

“Ads?” Billie asks. “Your stuff is all here. If you need a second to go introvert, you won’t hurt our feelings.”

I shoot her another smile. “No, sorry. Exams killed my brain. Do you mind if I use your phone? I need to call my mom, but my phone is acting weird.”

She hands it over and then politely follows Rachel, giving me space.

Of course, I have two perfect roommates now that my first year of college is over.

I asked for her phone because Ciaran—hopefully—hasn’t hacked it like he has mine. Instead of going to my room, which could be bugged, I step out onto the balcony, shutting the door behind me. A balmy wind whips at my face. I don’t look down because my belly is already swooping from all the nerves coursing through me.

Dad has multiple cell phones. There’s the one programmed into my phone, the one he sends daily good morning texts from.

I don’t call that one. I dial a number I know by heart.

This is Dad’s work phone. His daughters never call it. But we know about it. Just in case. For emergencies.

My dad has done everything for his daughters. He’s kept us safe, and here I am making a mess out of everything, yet again.

Someone picks up the phone, one of Dad’s guards. I speak before they get a chance to.

“It’s Adeline. Put my dad on the phone.”

I can hear the hushed, awkward silence. They know, just as well as I do, that the Akatov daughters never call this number.

Dad’s voice is sharp. “Ads?”

Tell him the truth. His life is in danger because you fucked up.

“Adeline?”

“Y-you said that I just needed to give you the word.” My tongue struggles to push out the words. I hear Dad’s questioning silence. “Y-you said that if I ever wanted C-Ciaran gone. . . That I’d just need to say the word.”

There’s another painful pause.

“Adeline, are you okay?”

I roll my eyes at how fatherly he sounds. Tears are threatening again.

I swallow a thick lump down my throat. “I’m fine, Dad.”

“Where are you?”

“The condo. Marco just dropped me off, you can check.”

“Whose number is this?”

“Billie’s. My phone is fucked up. It’s acting all. . . buggy.”