Sloane POV
"I don't care what Caelan does," I said, leaning back in the chair and looking up at the sky. "And I don't care about the Holt foundation. If the price of my freedom is watching your paper kingdom burn, then get me a match."
"You're cold," he whispered, sounding genuinely terrified of me for the first time in his life. "You sound like a stranger. You don't have an ounce of your mother's kindness in you."
I remembered the exact chapters of the novel describing her mother's slow breakdown under his neglect.
"My mother died because she spent her whole life trying to survive your choices," I said, the words heavy and final. "I am not making a mistake. I am choosing myself."
"Vivienne, please, think of the family," he begged one last time, his voice breaking into a sob. "We are all we have left."
"We never had each other, Gerald," I said, my tone completely clear of any emotion. "We just shared a tax bracket."
