CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

[Hestia’s POV]. Hestia jerked in her seat as the door to her father’s office opened and shut with a loud bang. Victor stormed into the room spitting profanities as he paced back and forth. Hestia knew never to speak up to her father when he was in a foul mood. Her hand remained on her lap and she straightened her back wanting to look as perfect as her father liked. “Who the hell does he think he is?” Victor cussed. Hestia remained impassive, still sitting tall and collected. She ignored the way her father’s eyes switched from amber and back to brown. She wondered what had angered him in such a manner. Hestia had always known her father to be poised like he had raised her to be. The only thing she knew he cared about was money and that made him a good businessman—too good. All he cared about was profit and he knew how to get it. Hestia remembered how she lost her mother, not that she even cared about the woman. She was a weakling, a human, whose association with them had caused them