Chapter 0142

My father is shooting out of his chair, Tristin going pale across the room and gathering Romulus close to her side. My father

strides towards me, his face livid with rage, a shade of red I haven’t seen before on a human face. I back away quickly, bumping

hard into the doorway as I go but eager to get away from this rhino charging right for me.

“You will fall in line!” he commands, grabbing for my arm. “You are my daughter — you will do as I demand —*

“I will not!” I shout, ripping my arm from his grasp and angry enough to find my feet and face him as we stumble out into the hall.

“You have no right to make demands on who I marry — let alone belittle me by calling me a slut when I’ve done nothing to —*

He silences me, then, with a sharp slap across my face.

I gasp, stumbling back, my hand instantly going to my smarting cheek.

I look back up at my father, aghast. My real dad has never — ever in my life — hit me. The rage it engenders surprises me as I

clench my teeth and growl, fighting the desire to claw his damn eyes out.

But, instead, I remember precisely who I am, and I stand straight, dropping my hand and giving him a withering glare.

“Kent will have something to say about that,” I say softly, looking him straight in the eyes. “And so, I think, will Ivan.”

Then, my eyes shift to Romulus. “If you ever need to get out of here, kid?” I say quickly, before anyone can interrupt. “You call

me.” Then I return my eyes to my father. “Because my mother was right to run. And anyone who stays is a damn fool.”

My father lets out a bellow of rage and throws himself towards me, but I’m already out the door, running down the steps. Jerome

is leaning casually against the waiting car but he jumps up when he sees me coming, pulling the back door open and running for

the driver’s door. Jerome starts the car even as he sits down and slams it into drive the moment I hurl myself into the back seat.

“Go!” I shout, pulling the door behind me and looking over my shoulder to see my seething father stumble into the drive. Jerome

does as he’s asked and peels off of his property and onto the road.

“Do you ever not cause trouble, Fay?” he mumbles, glancing at me worriedly in the rearview mirror.

I pause and then levelly meet his gaze, still shaken. “Look who’s talking, Jerome,” I mumble, sarcastic.