Page 32 of Ruthless God

“Ma’am. Please let us do our job,” the same guy says.

I grab a shoe and toss it at the guy, and he ducks his head. I rush to my closet, continue to throw shoes at the workers, screaming at the top of my lungs for them to get the fuck out.

Snow has crossed the line and I’m not going to take his fucking bullying. I’m not moving in with him, and I meant it when I told him that.

“Fuck that, I didn’t sign up for this. Let’s get the hell out of here,” one of the workers says.

They leave my apartment, and a smile of victory spreads across my face. I feel proud to finally stand up to my future husband. Now, he will know he can’t control me.

Snow

Isit in my business class, glancing out the window, watching the calm sea. I completely tune out the professor, lost in my own thoughts of Lyrical.

What am I going to do with her?

I tend to forget all about how she destroyed my family, and the urge to exact revenge is becoming less desirable by the day. It doesn’t help that I wonder if I’m being too hard on her, and that maybe she was, in fact, drugged. I want to believe her, but I don’t know if I can. Lyrical has always been the type of person where she’s not honest with herself. She’ll lie to get herself out of trouble and she doesn’t want to face her issues. Being in close proximity to her, I lose my common sense and quickly forget I’m meant to hate her.

Sometimes, I wish we could go back to how things were before the car accident. Me, Bailey, and her. Hanging out, or them doing shit that they don’t have any business doing, where I have to clean up their messes. I miss Lyrical spending the night at my place when she wasn’t hanging out with my sister. Wewould spend time at our hangout spot on the cliff overlooking the ocean.

I receive a text message from Miles, the owner of the moving company I hired.

Miles: Your fiancée threw shoes at my workers and told us to leave and that she wasn’t moving in with you.

I look at the time. She’s supposed to be on her way to her art class. When I tap the GPS app, the red dot shows her moving toward Gogh Hall.

Me: I’ll handle her. Go back to her place and pack her stuff.

We are supposed to move in after our marriage, but I’m not waiting. I need her in my space, I need her available for me to use as a toy when it’s convenient for me, plus it’s for appearance’s sake. My father has been on my ass about going out in public with Lyrical, since our engagement ball, in fact. We have to paint this picture to the media that we’re a happy couple. Show the world we are still on top, and we’re as powerful as the rumors say we are.

The professor dismisses the class, and I grab my backpack, sling it over my shoulders, and leave the room along with the rest of the students.

When I step outside, I see Savannah leaning against the cobblestone wall, watching me like a hawk, and I shake my head because clearly, she isn’t getting the hint that I don’t want her.

She’s been sending me messages, asking me why I ghosted her, and when the news broke free that I’m engaged to Lyrical, she sent me messages asking me to meet her and talk. There isn’t a reason for us to talk; Savannah was a tool I used to get back at Lyrical, a warm hole—a warm,loosehole—I used from time to time. She doesn’t satisfy the dark side I share with Lyrical. Shealways complained I hurt her, and she doesn’t like choking. She wants to lie on her back and allow me to fuck her. She doesn’t even suck dick right. A total fucking bore.

Savannah stomps up to me, her hands on her hips. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to marry Lyrical?”

“It’s none of your business. That’s why. Move the fuck out of my way, Savannah, so I won’t be late for my next class.”

“Why didn’t you convince your father to choose me? I can give you what you want. You want to choke me? I’m okay with it.”

No, she’s not. She’s okay with my bank account balance and my endless connections. I heard her having a conversation with her best friend Tanya about how she wanted to snag me because I can provide for her. I never wanted her, but I definitely don’t want her after she told her friend that.

“I never wanted you, Savannah. You’re a slut who can’t keep your pussy to yourself.”

She cocks her eyebrow. “You want the virgin who isn’t experienced?”

“My fiancée isn’t a virgin anymore, thanks to me, and she takes my dick a lot better than you. She isn’t fucking me because she wants a rich husband, and she isn’t fucking me to get paid. You’re a dried up whore.” I chuckle. “You fucked my friend, that’s how desperate you are for a payday.”

Tears form in her eyes, but I don’t care about her feelings. I have had enough of her needy ass. Her palm connects with my face, slapping me across the cheek. I instantly see red, so I grab her by the throat, squeezing tight, cutting off her airway. Savannah digs her nails into my skin, her eyes bulge, but I don’t let go.

God, I want to kill this bitch.

I lean in, my mouth so close to her ear. “If you put your hands on me again, I promise you, I’ll slit your throat and toss you inthe Atlantic Ocean and let the fish feast on your body. Stay the fuck away from me.” I let her go, and she slides down to the concrete floor, sobbing.

“You will pay for how you treated me, Revi Williams. Mark my words. You’ve just fucked with the wrong bitch,” she screams at the top of her lungs.

Lyrical

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