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"You ungrateful bastard!" he roars. "I should have drowned you at birth like the mongrel cur you are!"
I clench my fists, nostrils flaring, but remain silent.
Father's face contorts in rage, his hand shooting out to strike me. But I'm ready. This time, I catch his wrist in an iron grip before the blow can land.
Father's eyes widen in shock and fury. He tries to wrench his arm free but I hold firm.
"Let go of me, boy," he growls. When I don't relent, he swings at me with his other fist.
I block the wild punch easily, countering with a sharp jab to his ribs that knocks the air from his lungs. Father staggers back with a choked grunt. Before he can recover, I sweep his legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the floor.
In a flash, I'm on top of him, pinning his arms to the ground. Father thrashes and bucks beneath me like a wild animal, but I use my superior size and strength to keep him restrained.
"Get off me, you damned mongrel!" he sputters, face purpling.
I stare down at him coldly. "No, old man. We're done here."
With a final burst of effort, Father tries to heave me off. I slam his wrists harder against the floor, eliciting a pained yell.
"Enough!" My voice rings out sharply. Father stills, eyes wide with disbelief. I can see it slowly dawning on him that I've bested him at last.
I lean down close, our noses almost touching. "Listen well. I am taking Sara as my wife with or without your approval. Nothing you say or do will stop me." My tone brokers no argument.
I stare down at my father pinned beneath me, his face still twisted in impotent rage. My heart hammers in my chest as I realize I've finally beaten him. After so many years of abuse, so many scars both physical and mental, I've conquered the man who sought to control my destiny.
Breathing heavily, I lean in close and deliver my final words to him, my voice low but firm.
"For over two decades you have dictated my every move, molding me into your obedient attack dog. You treated me like an object, not a son. But no more. From now on, I make my own choices. I walk my own path."
Father opens his mouth to retort but I cut him off sharply.
"Be silent! For once you will listen to me." My fingers dig into his wrists in warning. He grimaces but remains quiet.
"You tried to turn me into a cold, ruthless monster like yourself. And you succeeded. I did and still do terrible things at your bidding, and I have committed unspeakable acts of violence." I shake my head slowly,
I lean down further until our noses almost touch, ensuring he can see the iron resolve in my eyes.
"I will never be your obedient attack dog again. From now on, I walk my own path, make my own choices. Right or wrong, success or failure, they will be mine alone."
Father's eyes burn with impotent fury, but also a flicker of... fear? Good. Let him finally understand what it feels like to be afraid and powerless.
I stare down at the old man who made my childhood a living hell. The man who beat obedience and ruthlessness into me until it became second nature. The man who sought to control my destiny.
Part of me wants to keep hitting him, to unleash years of pent-up rage and pain. To make him suffer and cower as I once did.
But no. I've already proven my point - I'm no longer under his thumb.
So I straighten up, smoothing my shirt. Father remains sprawled on the floor, looking up at me with that unfamiliar glimmer of fear in his eyes. He knows his power over me is broken.
"I'll be taking my leave now. But before I go..." I pause, letting the silence hang heavy between us. Father's eyes narrow, wary.
"Good luck getting Aleksandr under your control."
Father's face pales at the mention of my younger brother. He knows Aleksandr has always been resistant to his iron-fisted rule, only obeying out of necessity. Aleksandr is too headstrong and defiant to simply fall in line. But with me out of the picture, Aleksandr will feel emboldened to rebel.
I allow myself a small, satisfied smile. "I look forward to seeing your hairs turn grey with frustration as you struggle to rein him in. The days of this family jumping to obey your every barked command are over."
I turn and stride toward the study door, savoring the feeling of victory thrumming through my veins. With my back turned, I don't see Father struggling to his feet. But I hear the barely perceptible shuffle of expensive leather on hardwood.
