Mira
Lucas Kingston turned slowly to look at me. His gaze roamed over me like he was checking to see if I was the same daughter he knew or not.
Newsflash. I wasn't…
I expected him to start another rant about how I’d disgraced the family and behaved like a child. Instead, he just said flatly, without warmth,
“Welcome home, Mira.”
Then he turned back to the portrait of my grandfather—his father.
I froze, surprised. My father kept his thoughts to himself, but anything that threatened the Kingston name was always “fixed” immediately. A welcome was the last thing I expected.
I lingered, debating how to ask about Grandma. The mansion was huge; she could be anywhere. Dinner would draw her out, but a full family gathering? Disaster. I decided I’d just ask a maid.
Then my father cleared his
