Page 14 of Sebastian's Secret

“Stop. Please.”

“What?” Oliver interrupted, tuning into her request. “No way. I have somewhere to be.”

“Tough shit.”

Oliver might be an asshole, but the factor he always underestimated was that so could she be. They were both cut from the same cloth, and they knew it. Their father had told them enough times.

“What did you say?” he growled.

“Oh, save it, tiger,” she mocked, shaking her head as she locked gazes with Pedro. “Stop here. I want to get out.”

“Yes, Miss.” Pedro nodded cordially, reducing the vehicle’s speed.

“I said no, Pedro!” Oliver roared. “Who pays your fucking wages?”

“Your father, sir.”

Rebecca couldn’t decide if Pedro’s tone was resigned or conceited. He hid his emotions well, but then that was a pre-requisite of working for the Monroe family.

“Thank you.”

She flashed a grateful smile in Pedro’s direction, reaching for the door handle as the car finally halted. A moment later, she was on the sidewalk, breathing in the polluted air. Turning, she noticed the city park looming behind her, a collection of joggers cutting across the grass like ants.

“Wait there, you little bitch!” Oliver threw his door open, narrowly avoiding the car hurtling down the road beside him. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“What do you care?” she yelled. “You didn’t want to ride with me, anyway.”

“I care because you’re wasting my time.” He jabbed his finger perilously close to her chest. “That’s what you are, Becca, a fucking waste of time!”

“Says Oliver-No-Balls.” She laughed in his face, fed up with his bullshit.

Oliver had always been their mother’s favorite and she’d never understood the reasoning. He was as shallow as he was vile.

“What was that?” Oliver leaned closer, loathing coming from him in waves.

“I said, Oliver. No. Balls.” She slowed down her words, punctuating each for maximum effect. “You’re nothing but a Mummy’s boy who’ll never be as good as his Daddy.”

“You fucking bitch!”

Venom flared from his gaze, visible only for a fraction of a second before both of his hands sent her flying backward. She landed in a heap on her backside, shocked by the impact and embarrassed that he’d assaulted her in public. Oliver was well-known for his anger and temper tantrums—just like Daddy—but lately, he seemed to have lost any sort of self-control.

“That’s where you belong.” He wiped one palm over the other dramatically, as if he was cleaning his hands of her. “On the ground, like the dog you are.”

“How d-dare you!” she spluttered, hurt pulsing to anger before another wave of embarrassment at the ignominy ripped through her. Vaguely aware of passers-by in her peripheral vision, she searched the ground for where her phone had landed, wishing the path would just open up and swallow her.

“Oh, I dare,” he told her, beaming with triumph. “And I’ll do much worse if I have to see you again today. So, if you want out, then stay out!”

Dazed, she watched as he marched back into the vehicle before instructing Pedro to pull away. Some distant part of her brain expected the driver to resist, to be concerned about her fate, but a moment later, the black Mercedes disappeared into the line of traffic.

So much for Pedro’s deep admiration.

Pulling in a painful breath, she hugged her thighs to her chest, thankful to have at least worn leggings rather than a skirt.

“I have to get up,” she mentored herself, glancing quickly to her right and left. “Have to move.”

“Are you okay?”

She startled at the voice of a man, certain that no one had been there a moment ago when she’d looked, but glancing up, she saw a tall silhouette towering behind her, his features dulled out by the sunlight.

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