Jack.
As I walk back inside, the table falls silent, and every pair of eyes turns to me as I take my seat. They look expectantly at the door, waiting for Anna.
“She’s gone home,” I finally say.
My brother is practically seething with anger. “Yeah, because of you! Thanks, you f*****g asshole! Why did we even invite this prick?”
My father speaks next, his tone harsh. “When the hell were you going to tell me about working for a Petrova?”
“I wasn’t,” I reply, filling the glass I had left on the table with more whisky. I probably shouldn’t, considering there is no designated driver unless I use Luke, my dad's errand boy.
Harry practically spits, “For a reason! You saw her at the gala, knew it was who I was marrying because you overheard me and Mom talking about it, then made your move.”
