Avery had sensed it coming.
The way her father’s eyes lingered a fraction too long, the clipped tone in his voice, the late-night meetings behind closed doors—everything screamed control. But she had hoped he wouldn’t cross the final line.
She was wrong.
Sitting in the study, her father’s hands folded on the polished mahogany desk, Avery felt her stomach twist. He didn’t even look at her when he spoke.
“I’ve made arrangements,” he said, voice cold. “You’ll be leaving for school in Geneva at the start of next term.”
Her chest went tight. “What? You can’t—”
“I can, and I will,” he interrupted, finally lifting his gaze to meet hers. “It’s for your own good. You’re too entangled with Elias Carrow. I won’t allow him to jeopardize your future. You’ll be gone, and that will be the end of it
