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Ouch.
It’s hard not to roll my eyes at his obvious need to diminish my worth further by taking hits at my looks, but I pretend his words don’t hurt. That his existence means nothing to me like it always has.
Slowly rising to my feet, I properly fix these dumb Louboutin heels—whicharen’t even comfortable because they were never made to be ‘walking’ heels—and stay in place.
“Can’t understand English, cunt?” I don’t realize the guard is back until his condescending voice annoys my ears from behind me. “He said to leave.”
“No… he didn’t,” I dare to speak back, quieter this time.
I can feel the spike of tension in the room, but instead of looking at the guard, I’m looking at my feet.Like a weak submissive.I’m too tired to give any of these fuckers a glimpse of my expression. I’m not afraid to show them what my face looks like.
I’m terrified they’ll see how strong my desire is to ruin every one of their lives.
I may be pissed off at Warren right now, but I swear when I’ve found it in my heart to give him a pass in the forgiveness department, to make sure he gives me every one of these fucker’s names.
All of this is only temporary.
They all would have wished I was a Gemini in the horoscope charts instead of being a fucking Scorpio.
Everyone knows Scorpios never forgive and forget.
“What did you just say?” the guard speaks up with a tone questioning my audacity to speak out after that madness.
“He didn’t ask me to leave,” I voice. “He told me to go clean up. Two different things.”
“You got to be fucking kidding me.” The guard laughs. “You really are some worthless cunt. Do you want to be more embarrassed by what just happened? I hope our Lord leaks the recording from the security cam and shows everyone you’re a real whore who likes being punished.”
I don’t have time to focus on that tidbit of information.That there’s a record of this.A piece of evidence that is just perfect for ongoing blackmail.
A confirmation that this is only the beginning.
I’m forced back by a tug of the same arm that’s still aching from the first tight grip this guard delivered earlier. I almost lose my balance, but I swiftly brace my core—which, matched with the side-step, stops me from falling back onto my ass.
It feels pointless, though, because this guard pushes me to the ground not a second later, which has me crashing into a stone pillar, which, thankfully, isn’t holding any fragile pieces of artwork.
Or else I fear it would have fallen right on top of me.
Fuck… I really don’t like being a drag doll.
I can’t hide my venomous glare now as I look at the smirking guard who chuckles at the sight of my ‘downfall.’
If this is what it looks like.
“Pretty lucky our Lord removed the very expensive vase that was there earlier. I’m sure you wouldn’t be able to afford it. Even prostitutes can’t make enough selling loose pussy to pay that bill back in ten years.”
A few other staff laugh at that while I’m biting the inner walls of my mouth. I hate how my arm is throbbing so fucking bad. It’s my good arm, too.
Just staring at this man makes me want to say, ‘fuck this shit’ and beat the living hell out of him. I could kill every fucker here, and honestly, I’d get away with it.
I’d make sure of it.
My eyes are trailing around the room as if I’m mapping everything in my fucking mind. Drawing out that plan, knowing exactly which knives are where and how fast I have to be.
These damn two-thousand-dollar heels would have to go, but fuck. The bloody massacre would make me feel a little better.
My eyes don’t stall when I briefly notice Warren’s icy gaze.
They don’t pause when I see the identical frigid stare of Ares.
