Page 36 of Heart of the Villain

She wanted Marlena to teach Ivelle to behave—just like she’d taught her.

Anger crept up her spine, a tingle of rage waking the part of her brain she wanted to keep dormant. Take what you deserve.

Ivelle scowled, ready to speak up before Marlena held out a finger and silenced her.

“What are the requirements of this agreement?” Marlena asked, pinning Ivelle in her seat with nothing but the look on her face.

Celeste sighed, reaching out to squeeze her daughter’s shoulder, who ducked away from her touch. Hurt rippled over Celeste’s features. “I need Ivelle to learn poise, to learn that her actions have serious repercussions.” She never took her focus off Ivelle. “I have tried everything I can to get her to see that she is hurting the people who love her, but it’s not sticking.” Her eyes watered as she fought back tears. “I don’t know what else to do. I’m desperate to break into that brain of hers.”

Ivelle crossed her arms and sank further into her chair. It almost made Marlena chuckle, how bratty she was being. “There’s nothing wrong with me. You’re just overbearing and don’t know when to leave me alone.”

Celeste sighed, and her hurt was written in the lines of her face. “She’s self-sabotaging.”

Control of Amora, the little voice whispered. And for the first time ever, Marlena grinned at the words it hissed.

Accepting her parents’ offer was a no-brainer. This was the start… and they couldn’t keep her caged forever.

Her eyes locked on Ivelle, who met Marlena’s stare with a matched coldness. “I accept your offer.”

And when Marlena turned to her parents, she saw the exact moment a flash of worry for their decision caught them by surprise.

What kind of daughter had they raised?

Marlena’s smile started at one corner of her mouth and snaked over to the other side slowly. “When’s my induction?”

Okay, so I have to move to Amora. This was worth it—no matter how cold and miserable she would be there… it would be worth it. Control of a territory at twenty-two years old would be worth it.

There had only been one other member who took over their seat at a younger age, and he still held it hundreds of years later. Nero wasn’t a fighter—he was a fucking know-it-all who really did know it all. Sometimes, nearly all the time, it was insufferable. But Marlena knew it would be nice to have someone like him on her side.

When all of this blew up, she would need someone with millennia of knowledge willing to follow her around like a puppy afraid to get kicked by its owner. And he would when it came down to the end and he realized who was winning.

After hours of planning, Marlena finally left the meeting room for the first time. She was starving, really wanted a shower, and had been thinking about her night with Arlet any chance she got.

Marlena had to leave immediately, ready to take on the role of Fugere babysitter. Ivelle was in for a surprise if she thought she could walk all over Marlena.

No one would ever take advantage of her again.

The door to her room was ajar when she approached, and a maid scurried out with a few gowns draped over her arm.

All of her things were gone, wiped clean. Her room bare. Memories of nights she hadn’t thought of in years flashed in her mind while the emptiness of the room started to consume her.

How quickly had her parents wanted her washed clean from their home?

Marlena swallowed, spinning a circle until a maid interrupted the downward spiral she was nearing.

“Oh, Miss Marlena. I’m sorry. I was sent to grab the last of your wardrobe.”

All she did was nod, watching as the woman quickly grabbed the last few dresses hanging in her closet.

And just like that, Marlena was removed from the Aeris home.

She wouldn’t be taking over until the first of the year in Amora—she would’ve come home for the holidays. There were nearly ten months from now until the start of her Amora rule, but she got the message loud and clear.

Get out. The unwanted voice didn’t help ease the worry that her parents wouldn’t stop here at erasing Marlena from their everyday lives.

They wanted her gone, but yet they wouldn’t give her the full control she was rightfully entitled to by birth. Her parents would spend the rest of their lives dangling a carrot in front of her, reminding her that they were the ones who were really in control.

“Mar.”