Chapter 43
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
THEA
I wince, hearing my parents arguing when we return. God, I hate this. I’ve spent my entire life either in a verbal warzone or alone.
Zane and Miko were waiting for us at the courthouse and acted as witnesses to our marriage. Massio used the ring from around my choker for me, then he slid his and mine onto the choker instead of leaving them on our fingers.
Massio wants to discuss our marriage with my father before he sees the ring on my finger, but I couldn’t care less. The sooner our relationship is in the open, the better. I’m fed up with living a lie. I just want to be me, with Massio by my side.
But I agreed to wait until after the Garratt event, then I’m moving into one of Sal’s apartments with Massio while we search for our own place.
Massio leans down to my ear. “Go to your room and get ready. I’ll be up shortly.”
“Okay.” I give him a quick nod and head for the stairs. I’m not sure what he’s planning on doing, but I’d rather be out of the way of my mother’s wrath, especially while she’s getting ready for an event. She’s always extra bitchy during those times.
Heading straight for the shower, I take my time getting ready, washing my pink hair out and lathering my skin in the products Massio loves so much on me.
I trail a fingertip over the bite marks littering my skin. They feel like a form of branding, and while they’re visible to the outside, the mark he left on the inside of me are much deeper. I press a palm to my stomach and close my eyes, wishing with all my heart that I am pregnant with his baby.
A sound coming from my bedroom has me turning the taps off and wrapping a towel around myself. I pull open the bathroom door with enthusiasm, but it’s short-lived because sitting on my bed is my mother.
I can’t remember the last time she was in here, but my skin itches for her to leave, and the way her lip curls as her gaze travels over me, has me pulling my towel tighter in a desperate bid to protect myself from her scorn.
“Well, aren’t you the willing slut, Little Brat.”
I jolt at the nickname bestowed upon me. It was once given to me in malice and has since become my everything, but hearing it on her acidic tongue twists my insides.
She knows about Massio, and the fact she has probably heard us having sex has my pulse rushing.
This is not how I wanted to admit my relationship, and I now appreciate why Massio wanted to discuss matters with my father calmly, because my mother is anything but calm.
There’s a tic in her forehead, the same one that pulsates whenever I anger her enough to warrant a violent outburst. I shift away from her, being cautious.
She’s always lashed out, sometimes to the point staff have had to step in to assist me.
But we’re alone in my room, and Massio is likely talking to my father or getting ready for the event.
Either way, he won’t be here any time soon.
She grips my bedsheets, curling them in the palms of her hands as if using them to stop herself from lashing out.
I swallow back the fear her spiteful glare brings. She hates me; I’ve thought it a thousand times, but never have I truly believed it until now. I’ve always had a glimmer of hope that I could be wrong, because why would a mother despise her own flesh and blood so deeply.
Has she always loathed me this much?
Her nostrils flare, her eyes alight with fury, and I wonder if she’s taken any drugs. Surely not.
“Does he realize that you’re damaged goods?” she taunts, and I flinch at her cruel words. “Does Massio know what a slut he’s fucking with, hmm?”
Oh god, I detest his name on her lips.
She tilts her head from side to side, sending her hair floating around her. Her eyes are wild, and she looks more deranged than ever. “What a screwed-up, useless little slut he’s fucking?”
My heart stutters. How can she be so utterly callous toward her own daughter? It’s something I’ve asked myself a thousand times, and I think I’ll continue asking for as long as I live.
Determined to remain strong, I straighten my shoulders. “You don’t know anything about him or what he thinks about me.”
Her face contorts, then she appears calmer and raises a perfected eyebrow.
“No?” A sly smirk dances on her lips. “We’ll see.
” Then she stands and smooths out invisible creases on her flawless white dress.
“Your outfit has been laid out for you. I expect you downstairs before six.” Her lip curls as she scans me up and down.
“I don’t know what he sees in you. Then again, I don’t think it’s you he wants.
” She sashays out of my room, and I open my mouth to speak, but truthfully, I don’t even know what I was planning on saying.
All I know is, this conversation isn’t over.
It’s far from over. She’s planning something, I can feel it.