Deciding to leave Ember to it, I retracted from the room, pushing my spiritual body into her parents’ room instead. A flash of darkness zipped before my eyes before the room refocused.
Marcella was seated on the bed, her shirt lifted, and her tits exposed as she fed Isabella.
Shadows danced around me, but I made sure to keep my invisible wall in place, not wanting anyone to see me just yet.
Fabian was angry about something, his jaw ticking as he narrowed his eyes at his wife. “When are you going back to work?” he demanded stiffly.
Annoyance sparked within her gaze, her lips pressing together tightly. “Why?” she hissed. “So you can use our home as your bachelor pad?”
He took a step toward her, almost as if he was prepared to beat the shit out of her. But when he realized she was still holding the baby, he stopped himself. At least the bastard hadsomelimits, even if it wasn’t much.
“I’m the only one bringing in any money.” He growled. “So, I can stick my cock into any bitch I please and you can’t do shit about it.”
Oh yes. I would enjoy torturing him the most. He clearly hadn’t changed much from high school. In fact, he’d only gotten worse.
Tears welled up in her eyes, her lower lip beginning to tremble. Even when she was working, she wasn’t making enough to make ends meet. Fabian was the main bread winner, and he knew it too. It was why he lorded it over her head.
Marcella was still a monster, and she’d still pay for the part she played all those years ago, but there was something different about her, too. Unlike the man she married, she’d matured and taken on the role of motherhood. Personally, I didn’t give a fuck if she was a saint now. They were all going to die.
“Then maybe I’ll do the same,” she whispered, tipping her chin up and letting him see the defiance in her eyes.
A low malicious chuckle rumbled from his chest. “Yeah?” He smirked. “Who would want to touch a run-through slut with stretch marks?” He shook his head; amusement plastered across his face. “There’s a reason I fuck other women, Ella. You’re loose now. Nobody is ever going to want you.”
He turned his back, reaching for the doorknob and slipped out into the hall.
Fabian grumbled all the way to the stairs, with me following closely behind him. As soon as he moved to take the first step, I summoned my shadows, allowing them to wrap around my hands and exude from my fingertips. Pushing them out toward the vile man standing before me, I released them.
The shadows slammed into his back, causing him to miss his step and tumble down the long staircase, his shouts ringing out through the house. He tried helplessly to grab onto something to stop his fall, but my shadows were blocking his path—not that he could see them. He couldn’t even feel them.
Somehow, he managed to protect his head during the fall, which meant he’d probably live. I didn’t want him to die yet, anyway. This was only the beginning of my reign of terror, and I planned on basking in it for as long as possible.
Chapter Four
I ran out of my room as fast as my legs could carry me, my heart thumping wildly beneath my ribcage. Panic seared through my chest when I spotted my father lying at the end of the stairs. A pained groan escaped his throat, his hands pushing at the floor in a pathetic attempt to push himself up, but it was useless.
“Dad?” I questioned nervously, hurrying down the steps. “Are you okay?”
He seemed a bit disoriented, his ankle twisted at an odd angle. I winced at the sight. That didn’t look good.
His muffled response sounded more like another groan than anything else.
“Fabian?” My mom’s panicked voice echoed, her footsteps slapping against the wood as she hurried for the staircase and peered over the banister. When she saw he was mostly alright, she blew out a quick breath of relief. “I’ll call 9-11.” She turned on her heels and disappeared again.
“I-I must have tripped.” Dad frowned, a crease forming between his brows.
I wasn’t sure what he possibly could have tripped over, considering how clean our house was. Maybe he was mistaken and had simply missed a step.
He attempted to move his leg, only to hiss out in pain when it became too unbearable. Finally, he slouched on the ground in defeat.
A better daughter might have stayed with him to make sure he was okay when the ambulance arrived. Hell, a better daughter might have even gone to the hospital with him and doted on him. Maybe if he was actually a dad I could be proud of, I’d do those things for him. Mom was only three weeks post-birth, and all he ever did was make her feel alone and undesired. Therefore, he deserved to feel even a fraction of the same.
Rising, I started my trek back up the stairs. When he called out for me, I kept walking. Maybe some alone time was exactly what he needed to get his head on straight.
At least … one could only hope.
***
My family was pretty well off financially. We had a nice house and more than enough room. However, nothing could have prepared me for the monstrosity of a mansion standing before me. It loomed above us, two large trees casting shadows on the exterior. Loud music boomed from within, followed by laughter, shouts, and chatter.
