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"I don't care if you don’t want to fuck her," my father spat back. "I need you to keep her happy. Do you understand me? If this deal falls through because you can't be bothered to play nice with this girl, I’m going to—."
“What are you going to do? Kill me?” I chuckled, watching as his face turned a mottled red color.
My father sat in his office chair and typed something on his computer.
A second later…Monroe’s picture was plastered on the screen.
My heart nearly stopped.
"Ahh, yes. Is this the girl that has you acting out?" Anstad asked, his eyes glittering. "Did you think I wouldn’t find out? When I have this fucking much on the line?”
I stood there frozen, suddenly unable to move or speak. I’d always known he was ruthless, but fuck, I guess I thought there were some lines he wouldn’t cross.
Apparently, I was a fucking fool.
“You will stay in line, or there will be consequences." His fingers typed something else on the screen, and a second later, a video of Monroe walking across campus, her head tucked down, filled the screen.
Anstad leaned forward. “Just in case you forgot…I own you.”
I felt a cold sweat break out on my forehead as I watched the video of Monroe. I gritted my teeth, a surge of anger and frustration coursing through me as I worked on not lunging at him. Patricide didn’t need to be on the menu tonight.
Anstad raised an eyebrow, a cruel smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he watched me.
He dismissed me with a wave of his hand, his smile only growing wider when I flipped him off. I stumbled out of the room, my mind reeling over what just happened.
I wasn’t sure what to do about Anstad, but I was desperate to protect Monroe at all costs. And that didn’t include letting her go.
Apparently, it was time for the next phase of the plan.
I drove straight to her apartment complex and stormed to her landlord’s door, knowing she would still be in class. I hated this fucking place. The paint on the walls was peeling, revealing layers of grime and dirt underneath. The concrete stairs leading up to the second floor were cracked and uneven, with rusted metal railings that looked like they could fall off at any moment.
I could hear the distant sound of music blaring from one of the units, and the smell of cigarette smoke lingered in the air. Most of the windows were covered in a layer of dust and grime, obscuring the view inside.
Trash littered the ground, with empty beer bottles and fast food wrappers scattered around. The place didn’t have a parking lot, so beat-up cars and trucks, some with missing windows or dented fenders, lined the streets. I compared what I was seeing to what Monroe had done to her little apartment, with the freshly painted walls, and the flowers on the welcome mat outside. She kept it perfectly clean, colorful throw pillows and knick-knacks—or whatever the fuck they were called—brightening the room. Vanilla-scented candles masked the odor of mold that saturated everything else in the building.
She didn’t belong here, and after today, she’d never live here again.
I pounded on the landlord's door, waiting for him to answer.
Finally, the door creaked open and Monroe’s landlord appeared, leering at me with a nasty grin full of yellow stained teeth. I was pretty sure all of his clothes were filthy at this point, because he had huge armpit stains on the shirt that barely made it over his enormous stomach. He was wearing gray sweatpants, but I was positive they wouldn’t have the same effect on Monroe as mine had. Looking at his hair, I wondered if he slicked down every individual piece, or if it just laid like that. He reeked of stale smoke and sweat, the odor strong enough to bowl me over and make me want to gag.
"What do you want, fancy pants?" he sneered.
Fancy pants, that was a new one. Especially considering I was still in gym clothes.
“I want to talk about Monroe,” I snapped, already done with the conversation.
The landlord’s grin turned lecherous. "What do you want with my sweet little tenant, huh?" His voice was thick and oily, like he had swallowed a gallon of grease.
I gritted my teeth and tried to keep the disgust off my face. "I need you to evict Monroe out of her apartment," I growled. "And I need you to do it tonight."
The landlord raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "Now, why would I do that? Monroe's a good tenant. Always pays her rent on time. And she's...very accommodating."
Bile rose in my throat at the landlord's insinuation. I had no doubt he’d been giving her a hard time. "I don't give a shit about that. I just need her out of here."
The landlord shrugged and leaned back against the door frame, his massive gut jiggling. "Sorry, kid. Can't help you. I happen to like having her around."
I clenched my fists and took a step forward, towering over the repulsive man. "Listen, you little shit. You're going to do what I say, or I'll make sure you’re very sorry. Got it?"
