“Why did you bring me here?“ she whispered, the words slipping out weak and hushed.

He tilted his head, his voice low but cruel. “Duke’s precious angel lost her way to the West Wing again,” he said, as though it were a private joke only he could enjoy. He took a slow step into the room, his eyes burning into hers.

“Do you think I’ll let you go again?” His lips curved, but there was no warmth in it. “You wish I were that merciful.”

Her heart hammered painfully against her ribs, her breath shallow. “This is unjust. You cannot use your power and title to shape lives as you please.”

“In truth, I can.” The closer he came, the harder it was to breathe. His words squeezed the air from her lungs. “And I will.”

“I don’t understand what your problem is,” Y/n snapped, her own rage bubbling over, almost beyond her control. “But it seems to be with me. You should have taken it out on me, not by casting my father into prison. He did nothing against you.”