Page 64 of The Muse
Chapter Twenty Four
PERSEPHONE
“Paris? Who said anything about Paris?” Landon’s eyes swing between mine and Scott’s, their blue colour burning.
I move further into the room and stand before him, my blood boiling with rage at how he sees me. “Just like everything else, this is none of your business, Landon. You don’t have a say.” I push past him and move towards Scott.
“No, you don’t.” He blocks my path, and his temper flares. “You're my sister. A Broderick. You were warned, Persephone.”
“And I no longer value your opinion, Landon. Considering you have such a low estimation of me, that shouldn’t come as a surprise.” I tilt my head, and my hands find my hips. There’s no way on earth that I’ll let him talk to me like this.
We’re locked in a sibling standoff as the seconds continue to tick past, but I hold my nerve. He’s always been the bossy one, the older brother who’s acted much like a father figure when he’s bothered to be around. That doesn’t give him the right to do what he’s doing now.
Inside, I’m screaming. Being trapped between my brother and the man I love is causing untold emotions to rage. The faith I held in my family is shattering around me and close to crumbling under the anger that Landon spat. Regardless, I can’t show that. I want to scream and punch and cry, but I know Landon. He’ll use that against me, turn this into some melodramatic episode he can dismiss. I need to be calm and in control of my emotions if I’m going to get through this in one piece. And I will—at least on the outside.
My ballet career has taught me how to hold my nerve. How to win at all costs, even when I’m in pain. This is no different. And right now, Landon’s just reminded me of the power-hungry director who refused to see me as the dancer I really am.
“You can’t be seriously considering taking his side on this, Persephone. He’s a Foxton.”
“I know who he is, Landon. It’s you that doesn’t. And who’s to say I can’t be with a Foxton, anyway? What are we fighting over in the first place, huh? Do you even know?” I accuse.
I came back home hoping to talk to Landon and understand the missing pieces to the feud that’s been hovering over the family since before I was born. Naively, I thought he could help me. Help. Me.
How stupid was I?
The ultimatum that Scott laid out was so out of the blue. So encompassing. Choose him or my family. Like it was a simple choice, like picking tea or coffee. But my family are an integral part of who I am, or at least, that’s what I used to think. Now, my family means rules and obligations and a hundred other invisible strings that seem to come from nowhere and tie me up in knots.
Although my family isn’t just Landon and Father. If it was just them, the decision might be an easier one.
“We don’t need to know why the family is at war with the Foxtons. We know that Foxton is a snake. Just look at what he wrote about you.”
“That’s in the past, Landon. And I’m not here to debate this.”
“Really? Then why are you here?”
“It’s funny.” I can’t help the quasi-hysterical laugh that starts to escape. “I wanted your help. I told you that I wanted to know why the Brodericks have such a problem with the Foxtons. I mean, what really happened? Why is there so much anger caught up behind it? Because I need to know.”
“It’s not something that can be distilled into a sentence, Persephone.”
“Well, try, because right now, it’s stopping me from being with the man that I love.”
The four-letter word lands like a death knell. The room grows still, like the forest before a storm. Even the temperature seems to drop. He stormed out when I first told him, and I can’t imagine his reaction will have altered.
His eyes swing from Scott’s to mine. “No. You don’t know what you’re feeling,” he booms.
The sound is filled with all the rage I expected from him, and his height in the room does nothing to temper the intensity of his presence. Seeing it aimed fully at me begins weakening my resolve, enough that I step back until I remember the reason I'm doing this. My shoulders square, my back turning rigid. I can’t back down just because he’s intimidating. I won't. “You can’t be in love, Persephone. I’ve indulged this long enough. Stop being a fucking child.”
Scott steps forward, but I stop him from advancing on Landon. This is my fight. And if anyone is standing up to him, it will be me.
“Landon, quit it.” I slash my hands through the air, signalling this conversation is over. “You don’t get a say. This is my life. I’ve made my own decisions for long enough, and this is one of them. I’m successful in my own right. I’ve managed just fine without you, despite your best attempts at meddling, and contrary to your belief, I am able to take care of myself. Thank you for showing me exactly how you see me. You’ve made leaving so much easier.”
“Leaving? For Paris?” he asks
“Come on, Scott.” I grab his hand and lead him out of Landon’s study.
“We're leaving?” Scott asks in the rush.
“I thought that was evident,” I reply, my frustrations ebbing over.
