Three days after the incident at the boutique and two days before the ball– I was once again called into my "fathers" study.

I was led down the corridors following the same butler, trying to decide what the reason was this time. The longer we walked the more I contemplated that it had something to do with the boutique incident.

I was proven correct when I walked into the study. The Duke and Gerald both were in the room. The Duke sat behind his desk, a scowl on his face. Is it even a facial expression anymore or does he just look that way?

Gerald lounged on the sofa, balancing a knife between his fingers. I didn't know why he was doing that– nor did I want to know. The man is unsettling in the worst sense.

"Hello, your Grace." I moved across the floor, heels clicking lightly. I stopped a few feet away and bowed slightly.

"First you steal jewels and now you ruin a perfectly good dress from Madam Yama's Boutique." The Duke snapped, folding his hands on the desk. "Have you no shame whatsoever?"

"Your Grace, the dress that she wanted me to wear was subpar." I said slowly, keeping my eyes downcast. I can't wait to leave this place.

"The one who's subpar is you." Gerald snorted, stabbing the knife into an end-table. "It's bad enough you live here, but you're wasting our money like it's your own."

"Gerald," the Duke's tone was cold and without emotion. "This is a matter for me to handle. See yourself out."

"But father," Gerald sprang up and walked toward the desk– his shoulder slammed into mine– staggering me backwards.

Internally I swore, and just barely managed to keep myself upright. You prick. I thought, shooting him a dirty look. I swear I'll get you back– not for Kyla's sake but my own.

"All she does is lounge around, eat our food, spend our money, get into trouble, and harass the staff." Gerald pointed a finger in my direction. "She's not fit to be here. Just marry her off already!"

"Enough, Gerald." The Duke sighed. "I understand your concerns. Please leave."

Gerald made a noise and spun around. He stopped beside me and grabbed my shoulder– digging his fingers in. "You're worthless. You know that right?" He hissed under his breath. "My father won't be able to protect you forever."

I didn't react other than wincing from the pressure. He laughed quietly and left the room– slamming the door behind him.

"You wasted a hefty sum of money." The Duke's cold voice echoed in the room. "I don't even want to hear an explanation any longer. You will have to wear one of your older dresses. No other boutique will consider you as a client after the stunt you pulled."

"I understand."

"I don't think you do." He leaned back– the chair creaking under his weight. "You have always been the biggest mistake of my life and I'm starting to lose patience with you."

Damn it. I thought, feeling a sense of dread wash over me. I may not know too much about Kyla's background, but I know how violent the Duke was.

In the novel, the female lead had even noticed the Duke's cold exterior and wounds that had been on Kyla's body. There was no way that the staff or the brother were the main sources of it.

I have to do something to stifle his anger.

I sank to the ground– bowing as deeply as I could. "I am sorry, your Grace. I am unworthy of the Thornevale name." I pressed my head against the cold floor– body shaking violently. Once again the fear wasn't my own– but Kylas. I must have assumed right then.

"How astute of you to be aware of that." He laughed, but it sounded dry and empty– as though he had laughed only a handful of times in his life. "I took pity on the harlot who claimed you were my child and allowed you to live here. If you did not have my eyes– I would have sent you away as well."

Yes, blame the child for your own mistake. I thought bitterly. Such great parenting skills. This man deserves the award of father of the century.

"I have allowed you to stay here for many years now. You're not the brightest woman in the world or the smartest. Perhaps it's the dirty blood you carry in your veins." He sighed "If only you had half of the smarts your brother possessed."

Gerald? Smart. I had to stop myself from snorting. I can't react outloud– but the idea of Gerald being smart in any capacity was absurd. Gerlad had one brain cell that he occasionally activated when he saw the female lead.

The Duke moved suddenly– pulling me from my thoughts and walked around the desk. I peeked up to see his feet inches from my face. "The ball is your last chance, Kyla. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yes, your Grace." I said quickly– feeling a cold sweat break out across my skin. Just dismiss me already you prick. "I understand."

"Good." He motioned for me to lift my head and held out his hand– the one with the family crest on it.

At first I wasn't sure what he wanted– then a strange memory flickered through my mind. You must always show your loyalty. Kiss the ring, Kyla, you filthy child.

The idea of doing so made my stomach churn– but I kissed it lightly before he had a chance to do something or berate me further.

"Leave. You are not to have dinner tonight." He crossed back to the desk and sat down.

"Yes, your Grace." I turned and fled the room.

No one stopped me as I ran through the corridors– and surprisingly– Gerald was nowhere to be seen. I assumed he would have been waiting outside for me like last time. Thankful for at least a small win, I picked up speed.

When I reached my room– I walked inside and closed the door with a smack behind me.

My body was still sweating and the sick sensation wouldn't dissipate from my stomach. I sank to the floor– back pressed against the door. For a long while I didn't move, not even when I heard the door lock loudly.

I want to go home. I thought, closing my eyes. I don't want to be in this place.

Going home, as it happens, was not an option.