Chapter Seventy Two

Ryan’s POV

I shrugged off my coat, shoulders stiff from the strain it took not to hit Damien throughout dinner, and handed it to my father’s butler at the front door. With each step towards the living room, the knot in my stomach tightened.

I’d kept my father waiting long enough–it was time to bite the bullet.

“Uncle Ry-Ry!” Molly jumped off the sofa to barrel into me.

My eyes scanned the room as I ruffled her hair. A cartoon played in the background, Molly’s coloring book was on the coffee table, and the perfectly fluffed throw cushion on my father’s favorite armchair was untouched.

“Mols, where’s grandpa?” I asked when she released my legs.

“In his study.” She pointed down the hall, then scrunched her brows in confusion. “Why did you lie to Auntie Celeste that the driver was grandpa?”

In my apprehension about my father’s anger, I’d forgotten about that near slip.

I smiled as I spoke. “That wasn’t a lie, it was a game, silly.”

“A game?” she asked innocently.

“We were playing make-bel