Page 58 of Breaker

I stand up, looking at myself in the mirror.

I look just like her.

My mother.

Same green eyes. Same red hair. You could hold up a photograph of my mother at the age I am now, and you’d think it was me using one of those old photograph apps.

Cora. Caroline. The only difference is what we carry on the inside.

Funny how I keep being reminded that I’m her blood, like poison runs in my veins. I’ve been told over and over how beingher daughter has made me vile. But they forget that my mother was smart. Cunning.

Fucking ruthless.

Maybe I’m more like my mother than I think. Maybe Rune was right to hate me and try to break me down.

But, I am my mother’s daughter.

She may have left me forgotten in a dark cold hell for days, but she trained me and never knew it. I watched her every move, learning exactly when the monster in her would strike out at me, and in doing so, I learned exactly how to get what I need. It’s helped me survive Rune.

It’s about to help me avoid Zane.

“Come on, old man, we’re leaving,” I say to Clyde, leaning in to inspect the light bruise on my neck. It’s barely visible, but I know it’s there. The pain of his bite throbs, the reminder of his hatred marked into my skin. Just like my body still feels every single place I’ve been violated or abused my entire life. Every moment etched into my bones as a memory.

“Where are we going?” Clyde asks, following me as I march down the hall.

I turn to face him, feeling in control of myself for the first time in my entire life.

“We’re going to the estate,” I tell him.

“Right now?” He glances down at his plaid sleep pants, then cocks his head to the side, brows knitting as his eyes narrow on me. “Why?”

“I need to gather a couple of things,” I tell him, leaning over the railing to make sure Rune’s no longer in his office.

No light bleeds from under the door.

“Are you sure?” Clyde asks, from behind me as we continue down the stairs.

Oh. I’m sure.

***

The estate earned its name because of its size, not its location. When one thinks of vast family estate, images of a massive old world mansion sitting on lush open fields come to mind.

Not this place. My mother wanted the best, and twenty years ago, the best was a huge, three story, Spanish style beast of a mansion set back from the beach by a wide lawn and massive pool. When I was younger we had security guards wearing open neck shirts, and walkie talkies. Palm trees in massive pots lining the veranda overlooking the ocean.

If you were to envision a drug lords mansion in Miami in the 90s the house I lived in was it.

None of that is here now of course. My mother died fifteen years ago and everything about her was forgotten. Who she was. The empire she and my father helped Rune create.

It’s all mine now, what little Rune didn’t manage to coerce lawyers into signing over to him when he became my legal guardian. Like what should have been my half of shares to Rune Corporations. With help, he dwindled that down to only a quarter and made sure I have zero control over it until after his death when Delly inherits his fortune.

Actually, I can’t touch much of my inheritance. What little I have left, Rune doles out to me each year, controlling me in every way possible. Rune thought he was smart putting his two beloved gems in charge of his money, but he failed to see that when you’re fucking over the girl who signs your checks, she can see everything you’ve ever done.

And has receipts.

“Are you sure you want to be here?” Clyde asks, watching me closely as I march toward the front door, keys in hand, prepared to enter the home where my mother hosted her famous parties, various men catering to her to quench her desires. Ormaybe it was my father who loved to watch my mother get fucked.

Not that I have room to judge. I’ve never judged her. Not for that. Just for being an abusive, shitty person.

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