A Gorgeous Villain (St. Mary's Rebels 2)

His malice-filled eyes narrow. But again, I don’t give him a chance to speak.

His speaking days are over.

“So here’s another little surprise for you: I bought the garage. On that piece of land that you wanted. That’s mine now. That I unfortunately had to buy with your money, or the money I earned working for you so technically it’s mine, but still. It made my skin crawl. But I guess it was for a good cause, huh? And now I think congratulations are in order, aren’t they? Because you’re never getting that piece of land.”

Now I give him a chance to speak. And he does, with clenched teeth. “You’re a little piece of shit, aren’t you, son?”

“I am, yeah. But I don’t think I can take all the credit for that. Some of it goes to you.” Then, “Oh, and that guy we usually use to mess with people? Who was going to fuck with Pete’s bank accounts? Yeah, he’s indisposed. Somebody broke into his house and broke all his bones. Now who would do such a cruel thing? I’d say a real piece of shit.”

“Looks like you need a little reminder about who’s the boss, don’t you?”

“I leave that up to your judgement, actually. If I need a reminder or not.”

My father leans toward me. “You sure you want to? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’ve got a lot more to lose this time.”

I clench my jaw, showing him all my hate, all of the pent-up loathing inside of me, all the fury, all the mayhem I’ll rain down on him if he dares to talk about her.

My Fae. Or Halo.

Yesterday I choked on my fear. I choked on what he could do.

But I never thought about what I could do.

What I’m capable of.

“Yeah, I do,” I tell him, keeping my gaze steady. “I do have a lot more to lose. And I thought about it last night. And I think I’ve got another little surprise for you.”

“What’s that?”

I press my hands on the desk harder, my fingers almost digging through the expensive wood. “You don’t want me to lose those. The things I’ve got to lose now. Because those are the only things standing between you and me. Between what I can do to you if you so much as even think about hurting her and my baby. Which is ironic. Don’t you think? The things you want to hurt in order to make me your bitch are the very things keeping you safe from me.”

“Are you fucking threatening me, Roman?”

I expect my skin to crawl again.

I expect to feel the phantom noose around my neck tightening up as it has in the past two years.

But nothing happens.

My breaths are harsh but it’s my fury, my anger, my own violence that’s making them so.

“No, of course not. This is not a threat. It’s a fact, and I mean it in the sincerest way possible. If you even look at my family, I’m going to rip your heart out. The only reason I haven’t done that yet — and believe me, I’ve thought about it a million times in the last two years — is because I thought I had no choice. I had no choice but to do your bidding. I had no choice but to be like you. Because we’re both assholes, aren’t we? But whaddya know, I do have a choice. And I would very much like to see where that choice takes me. If I get to fuck you up in the process, it would be icing on the cake. So be very careful about what you do next. You don’t want me to turn into a man who’s got nothing to lose. Because then there’d be no stopping me.”

With that, I straighten up.

I watch his furious eyes, so much like mine, that have a hint of terror in them.

The terror that I felt all day yesterday.

Ever since he found out about Halo and Fae’s Juilliard.

Not going to lie, I love seeing that.

I love seeing my father, sitting in his throne-like chair, afraid of his own son. I memorize it, that look and file it away for future use as I walk out of that study for the last time.

As I breathe the toxic fucking air of that toxic fucking space for the last time.

And Jesus Christ, I’ve never felt lighter.

I’ve never felt more… relieved. More like I could breathe now.

And it’s all because I’ve got a choice.

I never thought I had a choice, actually.

I had a shitty father who wanted to control me, who wanted to treat me like a possession. Who never cared about me or my sister or my mother. Or people in general. So I had no choice but to hate him. I had no choice but to rebel, to fight. To stick it to him.