Vesta's POV
The shrill ring of my phone cut through the silence just as I reached for the bourbon bottle. I cursed under my breath when I saw who was calling. Dad only reached out when something had gone terribly wrong or when his reputation was on the line. I steadied myself, flicking ash from my cigarette before picking up.
"Hello, Dad," I said, forcing my voice to sound relaxed.
"Hello?" His voice cracked like a whip through the speaker. "Is that all you have to say? What kind of mess have you created now, Vesta?"
My stomach dropped, but I managed a light laugh. "Created? I have no idea what you mean."
"Stop playing games with me!" His volume escalated. "Silas contacted me. He demands an immediate meeting."
The tumbler nearly fell from my grip. "He what?"
