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“I need a glass of water. I will be right back,” I said before Morris could get to me. I gave Tristan one last look before turning away to look for the kitchen.
“I will get—”
“I will do it myself,” I snapped at Morris—poor butler.
“She’s cute,” his friend said as I headed for the kitchen.
I knew I was just a little girl in their eyes, but I would give them hell and show them they’d messed with the wrong girl.
The kitchen was always neighbors with the dining room, so it wasn’t hard to find it. It was a wide kitchen with white and black furnishings and lustrous utensils. I tried not to admire the big kitchen as I opened the cabinets. I was greeted with fine china plates.
There you are.
I started dropping each on the floor, breaking them. Dropping more, I opened the next cabinet. He’d said I could break whatever I wanted. Well, he would watch me destroy this beautiful house of his.
Morris was the first to run into the kitchen, followed by Tristan’s friend.
“Hey,” Tristan’s friend called, coming closer, but I threw more breakable things on the floor, pretending not to hear him.
“Chloe, stop.”
I was going to make them regret every decision they had made in their miserable lives.
“That bastard thinks he can mess with my life.”
I kept stepping on each piece as I walked. My feet had deep cuts already, but I wasn’t concerned about that right now.
“Chloe.”
He was starting to annoy me. I stopped myself from throwing the plates in my hand at him. I searched the next cabinet. I knew how expensive they were, and even if it meant nothing to him, at some point, he would get frustrated.
The next cabinet greeted me with beautiful sets of teacups and saucers. They looked unique and had vintage designs. Blue roses twirled round the cup, the rim covered in gold, and pure white contrasted with the blue flowers. I could stare at them forever; they were beautiful. Too bad I was too pissed to care.
“Don’t even think about it,” Tristan’s voice made me pause.
I picked up the set of cups, facing him.
“Chloe, put those cups down, please,” his friend pleaded.
What was so special about the cups anyway? They all looked concerned, as if I were about to jump down a cliff and end my life.
“Go ahead and break anything else but not those cups.”
I sensed something in his voice, his eyes begging me to stop.
Why hadn’t Morris mentioned the cups? If breaking these cups was going to hurt him, then I’d gladly destroy them.
“My life is more precious than these cups,” I said, letting go, faking a gasp.
“Oops!” I said dramatically
CHAPTER7
CONSEQUENCES
There was a long silence in the kitchen after the cups dropped. The shards of glass caught every eye and evoked different emotions—fear, anger, and shock. It was like the calm before the storm, but I wasn’t scared, nor was I satisfied. They stared at the pieces like I’d just broken the rarest piece of art.
Tristan’s eyes moved slowly from the cups until they landed on me. I smiled smugly at him. He looked like he wanted to say something but was holding back. The veins on his neck and wrist scared me as his jaw hardened in anger.
