Playing Dirty (Leighton U, #4)

by C.E. Ricci

The problem is, I don’t believe my father loves Carla. Not for a second. I think he’s an asshole going through some bullshit midlife crisis, and the only way he could handle it was to trade out his wife of twenty-five years for a newer model.

It looks like a desperate man’s attempt to save face after destroying his family. Or, more likely, to make sure he isn’t alone for the rest of his miserable life.

They haven’t watched their mother become a fragment of the person she used to be or slowly lost all respect for the man who raised them. They haven’t been forced into the middle of messy, painful litigation while two people who used to love each other become hateful, cruel, and petty.

I’ve known my entire life. Yet, despite the familiarity of his external appearance, I hardly recognize him as the man who raised me.