David’s spit lands on my eyelid. Some seepsintomy eye.
The dam breaks.
There’s a flash of blinding white as power erupts from me, but David’s already gone. The fucker vanishes in a flash, disappearing to fuck-knows-where. I’m shaking, I’m so angry, and I wipe his spit off my face before stomping toward my cabin and kicking the wood.
I scream, too, really letting it out.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”
I shout the word with each kick.
There’s a noticeable dent in the wood exterior of my home by the time I finish my tantrum, and I eye it with nothing short of complete satisfaction as I step away and smooth out my clothing. I’m feeling better, back to my usual self.
“That was…something.”
I spin, locking eyes with Valeria. She’s beside the chair David was lounging in earlier, her arms crossed over her chest. She’s wearing a red, leather bodysuit today, which is definitely a statement piece. She pulls it off, though. She always does.
“Why are you here?” I snap.
Valeria cocks her head to the side, and I blow out a long breath before changing my tone. She hasn’t done anything wrong.
“What brings you here?” I repeat, forcing myself to sound less unpleasant.
“I didn’t know I needed an excuse to check in on my little sister,” she says. “David told me you’ve been working hard these past few days, and I wanted to make sure you’re not neglecting yourself.”
“I’m not neglecting myself,” I lie.
Valeria looks me over, taking her sweet time evaluating my messy, uncombed hair before shifting her gaze to my dirty clothing. I haven’t had the time to shower and change today, and I cross my arms over my chest to hide yesterday’s dinner stains.
I huff. “Mind your own business.”
Valeria quirks a brow but doesn’t push. It’s for the best. I’m still on edge, thanks to David, and it won’t take much to set me off. I hate how much my emotions rule me.
Sometimes I can barely tolerate my family, and the few romantic relationships I’ve attempted have been wildly unsuccessful. I get angry, and it appears men don’t particularly enjoy dating a woman they’re constantly terrified will snap their necks.
I’ve never snapped a neck. I’ve never killed, but Icould. I have it in me, and I sure threaten it enough.
Gray claims that I just need to be patient. He seems to believe the right man will come around, but I think he’s full of shit. There’s no right man for me. I’m going to die alone, just the way I want. I don’t need anybody, and a relationship will only drag me down.
Silas laughed when I told him that.
“Family dinner is tomorrow,” Valeria says.
I nod.
“Are you ready?”
I nod again.
My attendance is mandatory, and it’s the first phase of our plan. Valeria has already planted the seed. She’s been whispering about some ten-day emotional regulation retreat on the outskirts of Wrath. It’s secluded and private, and it would arguably be good for me.
My parents will eat it up. They’ll suggest I go. If everything goes according to plan, my parents will bring up the idea after dinner. I’ll resist it at first, then grudgingly agree. It’s the perfect alibi.
I’ll have ten days to sneak into Greed and lay the foundation of my plan. By the time my parents learn I never attended the retreat, I’ll be too deep within Greed’s territory to be removed. They’ll be pissed, but I won’t have to bear the brunt of their anger. Valeria and David will.
Sucks for them.
I’m counting on my parents having overcome their anger by the time I return. They’ll be so relieved I’m alive and that Mammon is dead that they’ll skip over the lectures and punishment altogether. They’ll hail me a hero. Aziel will have no choice but to concede Wrath to me.
