“Do you care for us? Ben, Aiden, me?”
“Yes.”
“Then take your time with all the other stuff. Make up your mind when you are ready. For now, just know that none of my hatred or anger is ever about you. It’s all on me, and I’m sorry for directing it outward.”
“Thank you,” I say, sensing he’s not ready to tell me why he hates himself so badly. I only hope he sees that I’m here and ready to listen whenever he is ready to talk. Because as much as I care for him, I can’t spend my life watching him tear himself down, then turn it into resentment. In the end, I’ll not live the life my mother chose. I’ll save myself first.
Chapter Twenty
After lunch, Dax’s meetings call him away but not before he gifts me a key to the apartment wing. I sneak through the hidden door to the boardroom and back to my room, laying down my new laptop and stationery on the bed. I’m both nervous and excited about setting it up. I’ve never done it before and don’t want to pick any wrong settings that might screw it up later. I guess, I can only try.
It can wait, though.
First on my list for this afternoon is finding Sylvie and seeing how she’s doing. She might not want to talk, but that’s okay. I just want to say I’m here if she needs me.
Her door is closed and though I knock and wait for longer than might seem appropriate, there’s no answer from Sylvie. I retreat, vowing to try again later, and am halfway back to my room when a loud creak sounds behind me. The hiss of shuffling feet has me turning to greet her, but I’m stopped short when I catch a glimpse of her face.
Hatred. Unadulterated hate scrunches her beautiful face. Her eyes glare; low-drawn brows darken her pupils to black pits amid the white. Her skin is sallow. Her lips draw up at the corners into a sneer before she spits venomous words.
“Why the fuck are you here?”
“I came back this morning.”
“Why? Why can’t you just fuck off back to where you belong? You’re nothing but a low-class whore. Think you’ve got it made here in the big house with all the men running after you like you’re hot shit? You’re not. You’re scum, and the sooner you realise that, the sooner you can crawl back to your gutter and disappear. Or better yet, maybe those psychos can finally get rid of you? You’re clearly earning your way on your back with your legs spread for every no-good bastard in this house. Why not earn some money hooking for Hanson while you’re at it?”
“Where the hell has this all come from?”Why does she know details of who is after me? Franz, yeah, but Hanson? Who would have told her Eric sold me to Hanson’s?
“You’ve ruined everything! Everything was perfect until you came along. Things were normal. Happy. Now you are all they all talk about. Juliet. Precious Juliet. Centre of the fucking universe JULIET.”
“Listen, I know it was my fault you were grabbed…”
“God, you’re such a self-absorbed cunt! Evenyouthink it’s all about you.”
“Sylvie—”
“No! I don’t have to listen to your bleating, boring, bullshit! I want you out of my house. I want you so fucking far away, it’d take six lifetimes to make it back here.Thisis mine.Theyare mine. You can’t have any of it.”
“Will you just let me speak?”
“No. Do you have any idea of the humiliation I went through? I’ve been prodded, poked, violated, medicated, and spoken to likeI’m either insane or an imbecile. This is my fucking house.I am Sylvie fucking Trevainne! These people work forme! Now, they’re looking at me like I’m fucking incompetent. You did this.”
Oh, fuck this bitch. I’m done.
“No. You did it!” My tone is controlled fury. Every word, loaded and sharpened for maximum impact. “Fucking take ownership of your own mistakes, you entitled bitch!” Sylvie stumbles back a step. “You blame everyone else…”
“Actually, just you,” she sneers.
I continue as if she hadn’t spoke, “…but you’re the one who runs away, slipping off with whichever bodyguard will indulge you. You don’t warn anyone where you are going or how long you’ll be away. You’ve been flouting your safety for way longer than I’ve been here. So, what’s that about? Hmm? If you’d have been more fucking responsible, then maybe none of that would have happened. Or maybe it would have happened regardless, but everyone would have noticed sooner. You’re the girl who cried wolf.”
“Want to blame me for what I was wearing too?”
“You mean the lingerie spread out on your case or that little negligee you were wearing when I found you?” I fire back, then regret it instantly. “I shouldn’t have said that. For what it’s worth, NO ONE has the right to touch you without your consent. I don’t care if you’re lying in the middle of the road with everything on display, no one has the right to touch you without your permission. My argument isn’t about that. It’s about you blaming everyone else for a situation you caused.Youset the precedent when you acted like a spoiled child and ran away.Youwere supposed to be at the hospital with Tom.Younever showed, and everyone assumed you’d slipped off with your bodyguard for a sly fuck.”
“Are you seriously slut shaming me?”
“No! Jesus, will you listen? TELL SOMEONE WHERE YOU ARE GOING. Tell them who you are going with, and how long you’ll be gone. It’s not like they don’t already know how youspend your time, and, for the record, if they were bothered about it, they’d have stopped you long ago. So just check in. For that matter, why didn’t you call for help? You had a phone right there. Why didn’t you tell someone?”
The sneer wipes from her face. Her eyes narrow to slits and I sense she really doesn’t like that I asked.
