Chapter 155
Jack
So awkward.
It's a father-son outing. Playing golf. Behind the palace.
Honestly, I don't know what to do.
I just stand here awkwardly, desperately needing a smoke.
But I have a son now. I can't be smoking.
I watch as the king and Anderson laugh about something. Anderson's swing is terrible—he nearly hits the ground before the ball—and the king claps him on the shoulder like he's done something impressive. Anderson grins, unembarrassed, and jogs after his ball with the enthusiasm of a golden retriever who doesn't know he's bad at fetch.
Russell hits his shot. Clean. Precise. The ball arcs through the air and lands exactly where it was meant to. He hands his club to the attendant and walks off after Anderson without a word.
And then it's just me.
And the king.
He's watching me. Not in a threatening way, just... waiting. Like he's not sure what to do with me either.
I grip my club. Look at the ball. Look at the green.
