Page 33 of Lesson on Depravity

She doesn’t start, so I take it that she still wants to string Coco along with her plan. Whatever it is, it’s going to stop right now.

“Xavier can’t save you now.”

She flinches again, and for the first time, she glares. Coco gets startled, her shoulders jumping as the piqued perplexity takes control.

“What is he talking about, Coco? I don’t know any Xavier,” the woman lies through her teeth.

Coco looks at me expectantly. The wait for more answers unsettles her as she wiggles on her chair, small fingers finding mine for comfort, and I give them to her with a squeeze.

“You don’t have an aunt, Coco,” I explain, and that brings more confusion to her green eyes.

The woman in front of me leans back, lips tightly pressed and arms crossed defiantly under her ribs. I am confident in most things, but the one that I am absolutely sure about is Coco’s ability to trust me.

Anything I saw is right, and nothing can be wrong if I am sure of it myself.

“But—” Coco stammers, wide green eyes blinking quickly and staring at Jessabelle. Coco stops with a quivering whimper at Jessabelle’s posture and the lack of denial of my words.

This woman has a better grip on my princess within days, and Tito has known her for a while, but he doesn’t have this type of effect on Coco. Jessabelle knows how to work her manipulation, and she purposely picked the familial route to hurt where Coco has the rawest wound.

“Hm,” the woman voices, inspecting her nails with a sigh. “Well, it would be unbeneficial for me to continue this charade.”

Coco mouths the word with numbness, but her green eyes are defiantly holding onto the chance of this being a nightmare. My Coco has been in a nightmare for a while, and it’s time to wake her up myself.

“Coco,” I call for her, but her eyes are latched onto the other woman.

I pull my hand from hers, and they fall uselessly, my arm wrapped around her neck to bring her to me and let her use my chest when she needs it. As much as I love seeing my princess cry, I only find it delightful when it’s my own doing.

I’m simply livid, fuming under the taut muscles. How dare this woman play with Coco’s emotions? The fucking audacity of Jessabelle to laugh at my Coco’s pain.

“It was fun while it lasted. I thought Xavier would have provided more entertainment, but he just wanted sex for my drug money.” Jessabelle shakes her head, her chest jolts with laughter.

I hear Coco take in an unstable breath, but she is still stronger. She’s learning from her past mistakes; she knows to not back down from a fight for her own happiness.

“Men are pigs; stupid and handsy. Xavier, his brother—wherever he is as of now, and my husband.”

As a last ditched effort, Coco tries with her shaky voice. “Auntie Jessie.”

“Oh, sweetie. Don’t call me that,” Jessabelle says coldly. “It makes me sick.”

I mentally applaud Coco for not showing a sign of weakness the moment she said that. It must hurt her, but my princess is stronger than this insecure woman who hides behind a mask of superiority.

“I’m not your “Auntie Jessie”,” Jessabelle snaps, shaking her shoulders as if that notion makes her break out in hives. “I am not your mother’s sister. As a matter of fact, I have never met your mother.”

The money will get people talking, and I’m more assured that she knows personal information just by buying a couple of desperate people. Given her taste in clothing and her attitude, she isn’t someone who goes into a crime-ridden neighborhood.

“We have something in common,” Jessabelle’s eyes roll to the top. “Somewhat. We’re not from the same class of social economics. I have no sister, and you have no father.”

I give credit to the woman for working extra hard to hit hurt Coco in the most sensitive part. She’s pulling every nasty trick out of her books on a young, innocent girl who hasn’t done anything wrong to her.

Resentful, vindictive, and wrathful. Those are signs of a woman scorned just as Xavier had said with his last breath.

“I never said I did,” Coco says, pink lips pursed.

The woman smiles, her snake-like features becomes prominent and unrestrained.

“Do you want to know who your pathetic father is, you insolent child?” Her pale lips are dried and cracked when she pulls them back with a sneer.

“It’s my cheating husband.”

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