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“Why?” I don’t get it. “I’m a nobody! A fake Prescott. Why would my presence be needed when you fucking hate me?!”
“Wh-What? I don’t give a shit about that right now! You’re OUR Ruthless Maiden at Leighton U! I have to flaunt you when it’s MOST beneficial. This is the time to be fucking useful! So, stop wasting my fucking time and get down here… NOW!”
“I’M NOT COMING!” I yell into the phone. “Fuck! I can barely walk! There’s no one here who can drive me down to the rink. You want me to fucking run when I’m sick, which is YOUR fucking fault, all to flaunt me and get investments?! Are you fucking mad?”
“Are you defying me, Iva?!” His voice is filled with fury and so fucking cold. “If I lose this opportunity?—”
“Then it’s YOUR fault for not proving to be enough, dammit!” I snap back. “What? You want me to attend because I’m trending on social media over Ares’ photoshoot?!”
When he doesn’t reply, I can only laugh. I don’t even sound like my fucking self right now.
This just has to be a nightmare.
I throw the blanket off my feet and force myself out of the bed. I knock into the nightstand, bottles of pills falling and scattering on the floor, but I fight to correct myself as I reach out for the wall to support myself.
“You’re such a selfish bastard,” I pant, fighting for breath. “You want me at your stupid game, not to cheer you on or wear your jersey like normal, supportive girlfriends do for their boyfriends, but to flaunt me like the latest jewelry that’s gone viral for one fucking moment. Why did I fucking volunteer to do this bullshit?” I laugh at that as I manage to get into the closet.
I don’t bother putting the light on because I know what I need.
That stupid hockey jersey that’s hanging on display because he ordered Margo to set it ready for me to wear for his benefit.
He knew I’d have no choice but to come to his stupid game.
“Iva—”
“Don’t you feel a sense of shame?” I snap at him as I’m out of the closet and throwing the phone on the bed. Fighting to get this stupid jersey on my body, I go on a tangent, the words leaving me before I can stop them. “YOU! YOU! YOU! Everything is always about you. For a Ruthless King who’s supposed to be the leader of the pack, you suck balls! Leader in what way? You make connections to protect the empire you’ve yet to even claim! You don’t even try to make your own! Do you think that’s some sort of flex? That all those royals at Leighton look at you and tremble in fear? You’re in such a MASSIVE bubble of DELULU that you can’t even see how ‘cringe’ youare! The son of Mr. Leighton. The creator of Leighton Royals University with loads of money, plenty of connections, and global fame like his counterparts. You act like some big shot when you barely have any talents. Stalking your ex like a golden retriever should be your high qualities instead of acting like some heir who’s really going to inherit the Leighton throne. Why the fuck would that bastard give it to you?”
“Are you fucking crazy?” Domino’s voice is venomous, but I don’t care.
I grab the phone and laugh long and loud.
“Crazier than Zander! Less patient and loyal than Ares and with zero tolerance for bullshit like Warren!” I shout into the speaker as if he can’t hear me. “You hate me every fucking day. Hate me for all your life, but what did I do to you? Was being born a sin against you that you’re so gung-ho ready to make my life so miserable?” I huff and grab the doorknob, only to lean against it because my legs almost give way.
I curse, realizing I’m crying for no fucking reason and struggling not to collapse on the floor. Fighting for breath, I laugh more to myself, remembering that moment of pure helplessness I felt in that hospital room years ago.
“You don’t know how good you have it. You could have acknowledged the privilege it is to being born into a family of riches and embraced with open arms. Not discarded like trash and mocked for being female and an accident. Surrounded by friends who are willing to be loyal to you despite your flaws versus me, being bullied to the point no one even wants to associate themselves with me ‘cause they don’t want to be on YOUR radar.”
All those emotions are piling up now, begging to come out and let this fucker feel a pinch of their wrath. The years’ worth of baggage I tucked away in hopes I’d move on and never need to confront their ugliness again.
A shame, for here I am, feeling as though I’m back to where I started.
“You hate me? How dare you? I FUCKING HATE YOU! I hate you for ruining my fucking life and treating me like a doll to abuse and belittle when you wish! You tried to ruin me once. Did everything in hopes of leaving me helpless with these stupid legs that no longer work properly because of you! God, I swear it won’t happen a second time. When the debt is paid, you can go right along to my little sister, who you adore only because she’s a real Prescott and not some fake phony!”
“Jesus, Iva… are you having a manic episode? Not on your fucking pills?”
“I’M SICK! HOW WOULD I TAKE PILLS WHEN I HAVEN’T EATEN!” I snap at him. “Just pray my ass doesn’t come to your stupid game, or all you’ll be enjoying is a sicko bitch having a full-on breakdown because of how her Ruthless King ruined her fucking life!” I bet that my saying it that way has him realizing the power is in my hands now.
“Iva, wai?—”
I slam the phone to the ground, breaking it entirely, and swing the door open. I walk straight into a wall, the wind knocking out of me because of the pure force of anger thrumming through my movement.
Not only do I lose my balance, but my legs completely go numb, leaving me to gasp. Arms catch me, but I know right away this isn’t Warren.
Or Zander… or even Ares.
“Who?” I lift my head far too fast, the world spinning as the bright light from the chandelier above triggers a sensation I haven’t felt in a long time.
Fuck.
