f**k.
The thump of my skull on the solid steering wheel seemed to echo somewhere inside my head, just as defeat was readying itself to take up residence in my breast.
A sigh billowed out of me.
I knew the power, the weight my father’s name – my name – carried. The ‘great’ Hawthorne name. Not to mention the title I couldn’t inherit. And the vault of old money associated with it. I’d seen it time and time again: the way people deferred to my father, fawned over him, making sure that he was nothing less than perfectly happy.
But this?
I hadn’t expected this.
I should be sitting inside a cold, damp police station waiting for pickup. Dreading the moment where my father’s eyes met mine across the room – if he could even be bothered to come himself. I’d been driving illegally in a stol
