It roared loudly, much like the anxiety building in his chest.The guard approached him, remote in hand. “Sorry for making you wait, Mr. Deveraux.” With a click of his finger, the guard opened the gates.Dylan sped down the stone road, accelerating more than necessary, but the speed calmed him. Besides, he couldn’t resist his car. It was his one true love, a special-order blue and silver Audi R8. Nobody could resist the allure of his car.Nobody but his father.The devil himself waited for him at the double doors of the mansion at the end of the road, wearing a fancy navy suit. Dylan never understood why the man wore a suit even when at home. He could feel the intensity of his father’s disapproving eyes as he stopped the car in front of the stone stairs. The urge to bolt and give up on this stupid family lunch was very strong, but his mother would be heartbroken, and she had already suffered too much.With a trained pose—squared shoulders, high chin, elegant stroll—and self-control, Dylan slipped out of the car, gave the keys to the young valet, and walked up to his father.Wearing only a thin jacket over his dress shirt, he braved the cold and tried to not shiver, lest his father think him scared or anxious.“You’re late.”
