Page 15 of Ruthless God

“How is school?” I can hear the disdain in her tone, and I picture her tucking her golden hair behind her ear, tapping her foot against the floor.

She’s asking out of respect for me, but my mother has no real interest in my career. When we’re around her friends, she only brags about how proud she is that I’m going to be a stay-at-home mother, not mentioning anything about my passion for art. If Itell her I might fail algebra again, she’ll nag me to quit school altogether, and I don’t need her discouragement.

A tight smile plasters across my face, but she can’t see me. “It’s okay. How are you?”

“Things are going good. Your father is at the American Billionaire Club and won’t be back until next week, so I’m here by myself. You know how things can get with him.”

I wonder how my mother feels about him being the vice president of a gentleman’s club? After all, they have a section that is a sex club. Does she get jealous or does she turn a blind eye to it all?

Growing up, when my father was home, he loved and doted on my mother. He worshipped the ground she walked on. If someone were to tell me he was cheating on her, I wouldn’t believe it.

“Dr. Luna told me you stopped coming to your sessions.” Her words are filled with annoyance.

I was going to a psychologist about the loss of Bailey, but I stopped attending the sessions. There isn’t anything he can say that will make me believe it wasn’t my fault she died. The guilt and rage I feel will never go away. It was getting to the point where I would tell him what he wanted to hear just to shut him up. When I mentioned to him that someone drugged me before the accident, he told me I was looking for ways to escape my mistake. So, I never mentioned it again.

Sighing, I stand from my desk, glance out the rectangular window in my bedroom, and stare out at the crystal-clear sea.

“I don’t need it, Mom. As long as I’m not locking myself in my room, then I’m fine. I started painting again and I’m hanging out with my friends.”

“I think you shouldn’t pursue art. Most people don’t make money and end up being nobodies in the industry. They have all the talent but no one respects it.”

This is why I don’t like to speak to my own mother about my dreams, because she makes me feel so shameful for loving art and being independent. I want to be myself; I want to befree. Be free from the demands of being the daughter of a billionaire. Be free to make my own decisions without a husband tied to me.

“I’m marrying a billionaire, Mother. Even if my art career doesn’t work out, I’ll still be all right. Art is my passion and I want to pursue it. Didn’t you have a dream that you wanted to pursue as a kid?”

“Dreaming is for little girls, and you’re no longer one. Life is not about passion, it’s about being on top. Anyway, how are things between you and Snow?” My mother completely ignores my question.

I wish she would support my dreams. I want her to be excited that I’m doing something I love, not revolving my life around a man. I want to be happy with my life. She has a happy life, so why can’t I be happy too? I want to say more but it’s going to lead to a big fight, so I keep my mouth shut out for the sake of peace.

“Snow is being Snow,” I tell her.

There is no way in hell I’m telling her about how he treats me, not that it will make a difference, because they are still going to make me marry him after graduation. My parents are focused on keeping their generational wealth more than caring about my well-being. They are focused on being one of the most successful couples in North Haven rather than worrying about Snow giving me hell. The only thing my father asked of Snow is to never beat me. Snow is a lot of things—wife-beater is not one of them. He’s so high-strung and always wants things his way. I suspect why he was possessive over me before the accident, but I don’t understand why he is now as we’re no longer friends.

“We’re going shopping for your wedding dress right after the engagement party. So many people are going to be there. A-list celebrities, the mayor, and other powerful people.”

I don’t want to hear any more about my engagement ball and marriage. I feel like an object that’s been bought and not a human being with feelings. I hate this lifestyle and what comes with it. I want something more than to pop out babies, and sometimes I wish I wasn’t the only child with so much riding on me. I’m supposed to carry on our bloodline. When I have kids, their marriage is supposed to be arranged as well, and we’re supposed to continue the age-old traditions. I have never had control over my life and the little control I do have, I use it to do what I love.

“Mom, I have to go. I have my next class, I’ll see you later,” I lie, pressing the End button.

Tossing the phone onto the bed, I go back to drawing Snow.

Snow

Iwant to know why Lyrical came by here the other night to see Irvin. When I hacked her phone, I couldn’t find any conversations between them. I told all my friends to stay the fuck away from her, because they aren’t good people. I’m not good either. Irvin is a psychopath who likes to use people as pawns, so he better not have Lyrical on his radar. Hell, he’s the worst of the worst out of all of us.

I rush to the backyard and spot him sitting on a lawn chair, a blonde draped over his lap.

The same chick who asked to be my pet the other night. The dipshit motorboats the hell out of her tits, and she squeals. Keanu splashes in the pool playing Marco Polo with Jameson. They both watch me march up to Irvin and his tramp. I yank her by the hair and toss her to the grass.

“What was that for?”

I glance down at her sunburned face and shake my head.

She’s not my problem—he is. Irvin has one chance to answer my question or he’s going to meet his maker.

Ignoring her, I punch Irvin in the throat, and he places his hand over his neck, trying to breathe in air, wheezing, while I pull out my knife that’s strapped to my ankle, holding the blade to his throat. “Why the fuck would Lyrical be looking for you?”

If he has any plans of fucking my girl, I’m going to cut off his dick and make him eat it.

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