POV: Isabelle
I knocked twice hard on his door, but no answer. I pushed the study door and opened it anyway.
Dorian was standing by the window with his back to me, and a glass of whiskey in his hand.
He didn't turn around because he'd already known it was me, the whole house moved differently when I was angry, and right now I was furious.
"We need to talk," I said.
"No, not tonight, Isabelle."
"Yes, Tonight Stepdad." I said, looking sternly at him in fury.
He finally turned as his eyes dropped to the folder in my hand, the one Lena had helped me put together. Having printed screenshots and dates with a name circled in red ink of one ‘Seraphina Mills’.
When he saw it, his expression changed as he looked dumbfounded at me finding the truth he has been fighting so hard to hid.
"Where
