“Mom, I told you—if you want to leave, just go. Don’t worry about me.”
Disappointment clouded Ada’s eyes. After everything she’d been through, battered and bruised, her own son Simon hadn’t once called out Michael for it. The coldness stung more than any wound.
“Simon, can’t you see it? Your dad’s useless, a total waste, and Dylan is dangerous. If your father ever does something stupid and messes with Dylan, we’re all done for. Dylan won’t let us off the hook.”
She couldn’t bring herself to tell Simon that Dylan had shown up last night. With Simon’s temper, she was afraid he’d do something reckless.
But Simon just scoffed. “Honestly, I hope Dad does try to take on Dylan. The Ferguson family should never end up in his hands anyway.”
Ada’s heart plummeted as she caught the bitterness and ambition in Simon’s eyes. It was over.
The Ferguson family—so toxic, so messy—had finally pulled Simon down with it.
She had to find a way out. She had to get her son away from all of this.
After all these years in the Capital, she’d seen how the game was played. People worshipped power and crushed the weak. If you lost, you lost everything—especially if you lost to Dylan. There was no coming back from that.
She didn’t say another word.
Simon, growing impatient, shot her a look. “Don’t call me unless it’s important. I’m busy lately.”
Ada just gave a tired, forced smile and let the housekeeper help her tend to her wounds.
Simon left the house, lit up a cigarette, and tried to shake off the frustration churning inside him.
He pulled out his phone and called Megan. “Still nothing from Clara?”
Megan sounded tense. Clara had suddenly gone to see Beck, which made Megan uneasy. Then Clara vanished, and Megan had no idea if she was plotting something else. The uncertainty was driving her crazy.
“Nothing,” she said.
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