Page 612 of Filthy Elites

“UCLA is a good school with a great research program and the opportunity to go abroad for my research.”

“Sweetheart, UCLA doesn’t come close to Raventhorn University. When you go there, you will have the chance to go abroad and do whatever you want for your studies.”

She might be right, but like the academy, the university is run by the Bratva.

“I don’t want to go there.”

“Well, I don’t want you in L.A.”

“You don’t want me in L.A. because Dad will be out by the time I’m supposed to go to college.” I go in for the kill and stop pussyfooting around the truth.

“Yes. I don’t want you around him.” Her hands tremble, and her face colors fiercely. “I already warned you what would happen if you defied me, but it seems you didn’t take me seriously.”

My God, she’s actually gearing up to threaten me again. As if the first time wasn’t bad enough.

“I did take you seriously. Being threatened to be cut off when you have no money, isn’t something you quickly forget. Dad might be bad, but he would never do that to me.”

“Don’t you dare compare me to that man.”

“It’s true. He would never put me in a position where I’d feel trapped. And if he had money, I wouldn’t even be here having this stupid conversation with you.”

“You think your father is such a saint, don’t you? Look what he did to all those people. Look what he did to our family.”

“He hurt people, but you both hurt our family, and I’m sure when he found out about you and Cal, it didn’t help.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m sure I do,” I say with insistence. “Nevertheless, nothing changes the fact that I’m your daughter, and you threatened to cut me off because I don’t want to do what you want me to do. What kind of bitch does that?”

The moment I get the words out, she slaps me across my face.

This has to be irony at its finest, or probably karma for the way I slapped Chad earlier. But he deserved it. I suppose I deserved the slap, too, for calling my mother a bitch.

I didn’t mean to, the words just came out. However, right now I think she deserved the label.

I step around her, and she catches my arm, tears filling her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Billie,” she mutters.

“Get your hands off me.” I shake my arm free and glare at her as the first tear falls.

“Your father is not the man you think he is. His crimes toward us existed long before this disaster.”

I don’t know what she’s talking about, and I don’t want to know.

“Just leave me alone.”

I walk away, passing Cal as I head down the hallway. He doesn’t say anything to me.

I’m glad he never gets involved when Mom and I argue.

He gives me a look of sympathy that pinches my heart, and I hate it because, in that look, I saw understanding—something I desperately need but don’t want from him.

I head to my room and lock the door.

They should leave me alone for the rest of the evening.

I throw myself down on the bed, and Mom’s words suddenly fill my head.

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