22. Revolutionaries wait

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Chapter 22 is the beginning of the new chapters that haven't been posted. Thank you for your support!

:: C H A P T E R T W E N T Y - T W O | REVOLUTIONARIES WAIT ::

When I saw Karter's face I knew that he had wanted Kian. I didn't think that anyone — not even the most talented actor in the world — could hide the raw pain and surprise that flashed across his face. For a minute, Karter wasn't an actor or a man with a reputation to keep. He was only a father who'd lost the son he'd just begun to know.

He didn't deny it — something in our faces must have tipped him off — but he didn't look like he wanted to believe us.

I saw him swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing robotically. His smile had completely disappeared, replaced with a pinched mouth and distant eyes.

"Can we go now?" Meg tapped her spoon against her coffee cup. Hatred surged through me. Hatred for the way that she spoke about Kian's suicide in that cold, callous way of hers. For the way she carried a chip on her shoulder despite having everything she could possibly want.

Liam's eyes hardened imperceptibly, his eyes morphing in colour from cobalt to ice. "Not yet."

Karter frowned at the letter I'd shown him. "I remember writing this, but it wasn't meant meant for Kian."

"Was it meant for your other love child?" Meg slumped in her chair at the murderous look Liam sent in her direction.

Karter looked like he wanted to slap her. "It was meant for a designer who wanted me to wear one of his designs for the Oscars. It's courtesy to send a note declining the request," he forced out through gritted teeth.

"Did Cody mail both letters?" I dared to ask.

"Yes."

Looking around the table, I could guess what everyone thinking: my dad had been the one to send the icy rejection note to the wrong person.

Meg's face shifted into direction. I knew what she was going to say even before she opened her mouth.

"Cody might have mixed the letters up accidentally," Liam interjected.

"Or on purpose. Have nots always try to ruin our lives."

Karter inhaled through his nose, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand. "It does explain why Enzo sent me his design even though I told him no. I thought it was just because he only hears what he wants to hear."

Suddenly I couldn't do it. I couldn't sit at the same table as my father's boss, and look at Karter without feeling a surge of guilt. Whether he'd mixed up the letters on purpose or not, my father was the one responsible for the broken expression on Karter's face.

"I have to go." The chair scraped across the floor as I stood up abruptly.

"Are you all right?" Karter asked, the look on his face so kind that it made me want to cry. How could he be so good when he had just found out about Kian?

Why couldn't my dad be that good?

"I'm fine," I heard myself say. I reached for my bag, but my fingers trembled so badly that it slipped through my grasp and landed on the flour with a bang.

"I never got your name," Karter noted with a small, thoughtful frown. "I should know the names of Kian's friends."

"I never gave it. I'm sorry." I choked on a sob. Karter looked at me like I'd grown a third head. "I'm sorry," I repeated before rushing out of the shop

With shaking hands, I dialled my dad's number. It wasn't a smart thing to do nor was it a useful idea, but I felt as though I'd explode if I didn't curse at his voicemail for a few minutes.

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