Sherman
— Hours Earlier —
“You seriously think cuffing me to a damn chair is gonna solve your problems?” I muttered, barely giving the handcuffs around my wrists a second glance.
The rich scent of aged bourbon and leather permeated my father's study, a place that should have felt familiar but only felt like another prison.
I'd been trapped in this oversized leather chair since what was supposed to be a "family dinner" last night.
My father stopped his dramatic pacing, his shadow falling across me like a judgment. "You have no f*****g loyalty! That woman—that little b***h is why Zack is facing twenty years behind bars!"
A humorless smirk tugged at my mouth.
Of course, he’d blame me. Heaven forbid Carter Senior point that righteous finger at his golden boy Zack, the on
