CHAPTER FIFTY SEVEN
IAN’S POV
Guilty. He was guilty.
Why had I hoped that wouldn’t be the case? Why had I prayed that somehow all this would play out differently despite the evidence weighing against him? I heard the front door open and I did not bother to remove my feet from the study table, my eyes still on the screen. The sound of heels clicking on the floor grew louder as they headed towards the study room. The door flung open as mum walked in, dressed like she walked out of Fendi even though only anger was present on her face.
“Where the hell have you been? And have you been drinking?” She snatched the almost glass from my hand, placing it on the table a bit too hard but I was unbothered.
“So what? You care now?” I snapped, slurring a bit. Well, maybe I had a bit too much to dri
