Penthouse Suite, DW Hotel, Aethelgard.
Jett Westgate sat on the sofa, his back a shocking sight of crisscrossing red welts left by a ruler.
Kian Miller held a tube of ointment, frowning as he dabbed it onto the wounds.
"Your dad really doesn't pull his punches. These are all swollen..." Kian Miller muttered, inadvertently pressing down a little too hard.
Jett Westgate let out a muffled grunt.
Kian Miller immediately eased the pressure. "Sorry, I'll be more gentle. Just hang in there."
"Mm."
"Jett, why don't you just listen to your parents? Go to Jorgenland and give Annelise Valentine a proper apology," Kian Miller said, carefully applying the ointment while stealing glances at him. "If it comes down to it, I'll even go with you."
"I'm not going yet. Just do as I say. Keep spreading the news about my wedding to Stella Sterling. The more buzz, the better."
