I shot daggers at him with my eyes, and he roared with laughter, pissing me off even more.
"Don't tell me I ruined your little fucking fantasy," my father said. "You and I both know I'm the main man here, not you. You're just following in my footsteps, walking down the road I paved for you, sonny boy."
"From an outsider's point of view, it looks like you'd do anything to see me fail," I ground out through gritted teeth. "Quite sad to go up against your own son like that."
"You're the one with the grudge." He waves his hand dismissively. "I don't have anything against you, kid. I even did you a favor a few weeks ago. Didn't you notice?"
My eyebrows knitted together in worry. A favor from Dominic Windsor was never a good thing - partially because he'd always demand payment for it, and partially because I was a stubborn bastard and wanted to deal with shit myself, not involve my dad.
"What are you talking about?" I finally managed to get out. "I haven't asked you to do me any favors."
"No, you're much too proud for that," he chuckled. "But I saw an opportunity present itself, and I took it. You wanted that girl, didn't you? You've wanted her since she was a fucking kid, Devlin. It was obvious for years."
"What?" I asked, running my fingers through my dark hair. "I don't know what you're talking about, Dad."
"Of course you do," he winked at me. "Violet Cabot, the forbidden fucking fruit. Don't tell me you haven't wanted to sink your dick balls deep into that virgin cunt. As far as I know, you even went out of your way to ensure she stayed pure for you. Like a virginal, innocent little slut. I guess that's how you like them, huh?"
I saw red, but he ignored my seething gaze, carrying on with his monologue.
"I have to say I'm partial to them myself. Something so sweet about an untouched pussy, isn't there, sonny boy? Have you taken it yet? Popped that sweet, sweet cherry?"
I moved away from my desk, fisting my hands in the expensive fabric of his shirt, but he merely laughed at me.
"You wouldn't dare," he reminded me. "I can ruin all of this for you, Devlin. Just as easily as I got Hugo Cabot behind bars, I can get him out, too. And you can't do shit without my help."
"I don't want your help," I hissed. "I never fucking asked for it!"
He pried his shirt out of my grasp, shaking his head as he said, "No, you didn't. No matter how hard I tried, you pushed me away, Devlin. That changes now."
"We'll see," I growled, making sure my tie was still in place and tightening the knot. "Dad, you shouldn't have done that. The man is innocent."
"Is he?"
We stared at one another, with me weighing up my father's words. Could it be true that Violet's father had really done what he'd been accused of? And if so, how could I get him out of prison, knowing he was guilty?
"Please don't meddle," I said out loud. "I want to deal with this myself."
"Yourself?" He raised his eyebrows at me, letting out a low chuckle. "Your plans will fail if you don't let me help, Devlin. That's what I'm here for. See, you never saw me as an ally. I was always an opponent in your eyes."
"Aren't you?" I bit out, and he merely stared at me with amusement in his eyes.
"Call that secretary of yours in here," he ordered.
I pressed the line connecting my phone to Sally-Anne’s and ordered her in the office. She appeared moments later, chewing her bottom lip and nervously glancing between my father and me.
"How can I be of service, Mr. Windsor?" she asked politely.
"How about you come a little bit closer," my father said, motioning for her to close the distance between them. "I didn't get a good enough look at you before, little girl."
She glanced between the two of us, as if looking for my permission. I didn't move. I knew better than to argue by now. What Dominic Windsor wanted, Dominic Windsor got.
Sally-Anne approached my father with careful steps, and once she was closer, he whistled in appreciation.
"Got to say, your taste in staff might be even better than mine," my father grinned wickedly. "Why don't you do a little spin for me, Sally-May, I want to see you from all angles."
"Sally-Anne," she whispered.
"Excuse me, little girl?" My father took a step closer, closing the distance between them and making her cower.
"My n-name, S-Sir," she stuttered, her eyes downcast. "It's Sally-Anne, not Sally-May."
"How absolutely precious," he laughed out loud. "Not that I give a shit, little girl. Now spin."
He held his hand out, and she took it cautiously, letting him spin her around the room. He whistled at the sight of her, giving me an amused look while Sally-Anne stared at the floor, clearly mortified.