Page 40 of The Heir
"Fucking bastard couldn't even tell me I looked beautiful tonight, but he sure had no problem tellingher,"I grit out, looking at King. "He said she lookedravishing."
King tsks his tongue, folding his arms. "She looked like a whore to me," he says so quietly that I know he didn't really intend for me to hear it. I don't respond, hellbent on destroying something.
Ignoring King slowly walking through the space and looking around, I make my way through the foyer and into the kitchen where I grab our biggest knife along with a gallon of bleach, keeping it moving to the master bedroom. Panting, I rip all the covers off until I get to the sheet, then hike my dress up to my hips.
When King appears in the doorway to lean a shoulder against the frame, I don't even spare him a moment's attention as I crawl to the middle of the bed, sink to my knees and then begin plunging the knife into the mattress.
"Couldn't even fuck me, went soft anytime I fucking touched him or wanted to try something new. Never wanted to kiss me, touch me, compliment me. Was never home. Could never do anything with me, never had time for me. His bitch ass wouldn't even look at my designs for my company. No, wasn't interested enough. But I guess he was interested enough to fuckmy goddamn assistant.The fucking whore!How could youuuuuu?!"I scream into the room, as if the fucker can hear me. "He could have given me a fucking disease. I never would have done this to him. I was loyal to him. Even though he was fuckingboring as shitI looked past that.Well fuck him!"
King grunts softly, his eyes leaving me to roam our bedroom with a thoughtful expression.
I stab the mattress some more before a thought hits me. "I hope you broke something?" I turn to King, blowing my hair out off my face.
King nods at me silently, still leaning there with his eyes on me. Calm.
What I'm not.
I'm aware I look and sound crazy as with every stab I hear a feral grunt leave me. I look over after a few more minutes, breathing hard and seeing King staring at me with an almost amused expression on his face.
"Remember the time he gave you those expired tums? That wasrealfucked up. Stab it some more, babe, get it all out for me," he says quietly, his gaze dragging down my face and to my breasts.
"Yeah," I huff. "Sure fucking do!" I turn and stab the mattress some more. "Fuck if I'm leaving this apartment intact for her to just slide in and take my place once I'm gone. No sir!" I pant at him, turning back and stabbing the mattress until it's nothing but ripped fabric and stuffing. "Call me psycho? I'll show you mother fucking psycho! Two years I gave your bitch ass!" I scream, flinging the knife to the side. Gustavo steps to the side, easily darting out the way off the knife. "Sorry," I mumble.
I run into the closet and start tearing Christopher's clothes off the hangers and then dumping them on the bed. King's security is now in the room with us, in the doorway watching me act like the psycho I was called. It takes me exactly eight trips to get everything from Christopher's side of the closet.
I walk calmly to the bed and then, breathing hard, I proceed to pour bleach all over his clothes, shoes, and the bed, smiling as I toss the empty container on top of the mess and dust my hands off. I look over at the men. "You know what's fucking sad? I didn't even love him."
He nods, staying silent.
I see the security trade a look before glancing at King who ignores them. I walk into the closet, grab a duffel bag and begin to pack my clothes and all my makeup, hair product, then dump it over at the front door.
Going back into the bedroom, I grab a lipstick and stand on top of the bed, undoing the cap and write "I've got your psycho." Then hop down and start at the far end of the wall, and begin writing his full name all the way from one side of the room to the other end in block letters. Ignoring King who is still leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.
When I'm done I toss the lipstick on the floor and then head my way back to the main area where I proceed to toss all the couch cushions out the little window. It's hard because this high up you can only getthe window open so far, but with some effort and a lot of grunting I make it work.
Xavier opens the front door to walk out, but I detour into the kitchen and start pulling dishes out of the cabinet and dishwasher breaking them on the floor one by one. Then I take the little rotator plate out of the microwave and shove that out the window too, so when he goes to use it there's nothing to put his plate on.
Then for good measure I cut the cord to the tv.
I see King staring at the picture of us on the wall but I stop him with a look. "Leave it," I snap. Walking out the front door I take a deep breath, then another one. "Oh God, I feel so much fucking better," I mutter, missing the look that the three of them give each other.
I stand there for a moment with my head tossed back and just breathe, feeling the anger and adrenaline leave me in a rush that makes me feel weak. I sway, willing to let my heart calm, and embrace some sort of peace.
"Xavier, call Carlotta please. Tell her it's time." I hear King say quietly behind me.
His voice knocks me out of my internal meditation and, slightly embarrassed, I turn, ready to call it a night.
"Well gentleman, thank you for joining me on that adventure, but I'm about to head out. I'm sorry you had to see me break down so bad, but, a woman's gotta do what a woman's gotta do sometimes." I clear my throat, ignoring their amused stares. "I hope you all can understand, and… and don't hold it against me."
The body guards' lips twitch as if they're trying to hide back a grin, and they shuffle slightly, folding their arms and staring ahead stoically. King's amused grin turns into a full on smile that he tries to cover up by bringing up a hand to rub against his lips as he tilts his head, regardingme through narrowed eyes. The look is so sexy that my heart begins that stupid racing it was doing this morning on the trail.
I'm not sure how I'm not dead in the floor of exhaustion yet, honestly.
King remains silent as he continues to regard me, patiently. I roll my lips, feeling slightly uncomfortable.
"So, let me know when the trial is, and I'll come support, testify, whatever you need." My eyes flit down his body for truly the first time. He's rumpled, and smeared with blood on one of his sleeves. Concerned, my eyes narrow as I walk to him, pressing my hands into his torso and ribs, searching and rubbing for any injuries.
"What are you doing?" King asks, grinning down at me.
