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“Hope,” my father echoed. “Such a pitiful thing. Those who can’t get what they want themselves hope. A useless emotion, a waste of everyone’s time. In the end, Giselle, you’re only disappointed. I want you to remember that.”
I had no idea what he was talking about, so I kept quiet, knowing anything I said to him right now would only set him off. He was in a mood, clearly, and I was not having it. I was fucking done with his mind games.
“Not to change the subject, but I heard Piper came onto Zander while you two were out.” As my father spoke, I resisted my urge to roll my eyes. Of course Zander had tattled; I hoped he didn’t tattle on what we’d done after. “I think it might be a good idea to have him get close to her, so I told him that anytime you’re with Shay and the others, he’s free to pursue Piper. Even though she’s leaving, it might help us—”
My father might’ve said more, but I tuned him out. He’d basically told Zander to go for Piper. I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t care at all, but after that kiss, after everything Zander had told me… would he really be okay with pursuing her? All he’d end up doing would be playing with her, hooking up with her, no emotions attached.
But, I realized, wasn’t that exactly what I’d done with the man at the Playground? Fuck. I couldn’t judge. I couldn’t be mad at this. The only thing I could do was accept it, because unlike me, Zander had no reason not to follow my father’s orders.
That pissed me off. Oh, that pissed me off to no end.
The rest of dinner I fumed. I spoke when necessary, when my father asked me questions, but other than that, I kept to myself. Not against the norm, but still. The mere thought that my father had told Zander to go ahead and fuck with Piper was just infuriating, and I didn’t know how to get rid of that feeling.
It sucked. It sucked so bad.
I had no right to feel that way. I knew I didn’t, but no matter what logical way I looked at it, I just couldn’t change the way I felt. Maybe it was wrong, but I didn’t particularly like the thought of Zander flirting, touching, laughing… or fucking anyone else.
He wasn’t mine; I had no claim to him. Perhaps I’d let his sweet words get to me, fallen right into his trap. Maybe this was what my father wanted all along: me, starting to care for Zander, and then watching him go after someone else because my father had told him to.
My father was an underhanded fucker. I wouldn’t put it past him. There were a lot of things I wouldn’t put past him.
The moment dinner was done, I excused myself and went upstairs to my bedroom. Once the door was closed, I could do nothing but pace the length of the room, unable to get my mind under control. I couldn’t wrestle with the pissed off, jealous feelings inside of me regardless of how much and how hard I tried. It was like something inside me snapped. Like all this time, I’d been walking along a tightrope, knowing what I wanted but unable to reach for it myself. And now, now I could finally see that I was stronger than I thought all these years.
I could go against my father. I could take him down. And the only thing better than watching Miguel Santos fall… would be standing at the helm of his empire myself.
That might be a goal for an ambitious girl, one that might not be truly attainable, but it was one hell of a thought.
And as for Zander—he was loyal to my father. He’d proved himself three years ago. I highly doubted he would ever go against him, even if I batted my eyelashes and asked, but I supposed you never knew. Maybe I could lay on the charm…
No. That would be using him, just like my father currently did, and if there was one thing I wanted, it was to be better than my father. I couldn’t use people just to use them. I wanted loyalty not because they feared me, but because they respected me. As far as I was concerned, those were two vastly different types of loyalty.
Time ticked by. Night fell, and still I fumed to myself. This was a doozy of a day, and I for one couldn’t wait for it to be over, but with the way I was feeling, how I couldn’t quite shake the rage inside of me, I knew I had to do something.
I had to do something, and I had to do it alone. No one watching me, no one stalking the shadows behind me. No Zander being my chauffeur. Just me, alone, as it had been all this time.
Some people weren’t meant to play nice with others. Some people weren’t meant to have an army of adoring boyfriends. Some people were meant to be alone. If there was anything past events had taught me, it’s that I could not rely on anyone other than myself.
And even then, sometimes I failed myself.
The night wore on, and I waited. Not so patient, but I waited. The moment I was certain my father was asleep, that all the lights in the house were off and no one would be the wiser, I changed. From white to black, I swapped out my clothes in the deepest corner of my walk-in closet. I put on short black leather gloves, along with a dress whose fabric was somewhere between cloth and leather. Studded ankle boots. My hair was let free, falling past my shoulders. I even put on some makeup.
I know, I know. I was really getting into it tonight, but that’s because I needed to. If there was one thing I needed, it was this. Tonight.
I was going to the Playground.
