Page 23 of Goddess of Mayhem

We.

I know exactly who else plans on joining him. I already knew this, but the fact that Liam’s still coming to the ball despite being suspended winds me up tighter than I already was. It means he’s coming for more than his petty revenge.

He's coming for answers.

Answers that I can’t give him.

Ten

Malia

ISTAREATTHEwedding picture in my hands as I lay in my bed. I look at my dad, who I’ve rarely seen that happy before—just one specific time in another frozen memory. My dad has always been vocal about his past relationship with Alya Turner. The love he turned his back on for my mother.

Much like my brother, Donovan, our dad didn’t want this life. He wanted to play baseball and go to college, and live a normal life with the woman he loved. He keeps a picture in his desk of him and Alya, and in it he has the biggest smile as she kisses his boyish face. A smile just like the one in the picture I’m holding.

Even at seventeen, my dad had a chip on his shoulder and something to prove. Having a shitty parent he wanted to make proud, he gave everything up and took on his role as the next leader of The Olin Empire—including turning his back on the love of his life for a woman that would make the rest of it hell. The man has many faults, one being driven by our family code of honor.

I’ll never forget the day he realized how awful my mother is to me. How he blames himself for the bullshit things she’s put me though. I was six when he made his move to try and keep me safe.

I peek into the crack of the door to my dad’s office. He’s pacing the floor while talking on the phone, running his hands through his unkempt curls.

“I don’t know any other way except to send her with you until I can get a handle on Tawny,” he breathes out. “I set her up for this, Elijah.”

Lion’s papa. His parents have always been so kind to me, like a second mom and dad that I’ve grown to call “mama” and “papa.”

“I can’t kill her right now,” my dad yells in a hushed voice. “I can’t afford a war with the Bratva when I’m trying to find the man who killed my best friend and his wife!”

He pauses, listening to what Papa has to say.

“I’ll get Malia packed and bring her to you before Tawny has a chance to question it.”

I take off down the hallway when he hangs up his phone, tears stinging my eyes. The only thought I have is that my dad is sending me away because my mother ruined me.

Not long after that, he came to my room to pack my things. I’d had a busted lip from my mother backhanding me for talking back to her. While he was busy with that, I slipped out and went to his office. My dad is everything to me, but at six years old, I didn’t understand what was happening and thought I’d never see him again.

He had a picture in his desk that I wanted to take with me in case this was the last time I saw him. I was terrified I would forget his face if he didn’t come back for me. After searching through his desk, I found the picture of him and Alya. Even then I knew how rare a smile like that was from him and, if I were to forget him, I could look at the picture of him and Alya to remember him as handsome and happy.

My hand reaches up, and I run my finger along the scar my mother gave me through my eye when I was sixteen. Obviously, my dad came back for me, and I still have the picture hidden—never admitting to taking it in the first place. The abuse from my mother lessened, but still continued. After she gave me my scar was when my dad handed me her life.

I played with it of course, but there were pieces of me that looked past her evil, taking everything she’s ever done or put me through with a grain of salt because I had wanted her acceptance. Just like any other child, I had just wanted her to love me, to fight for me. Even though I harbor so much hatred for her.

Laying here, I can’t help but wonder what I would have turned out to be like if she hadn’t been the way she is. Her tolerance of Donovan was because he held the heir status. Not to mention that for every time she pushed me to be something I wasn’t, I pushed back. My little brother’s loyalties were always with me, even if he got fabricated love from her at one point. I didn’t fit the role she wanted for me; I was named after someone my father loved that wasn’t her.

Would she have loved me if I’d played the doting mafia princess—letting her use me for social status and power—instead of the secret weapon I became? Instead of the storm of unpredictable chaos that is fueled by wrath, hatred, and pain.

I know my answer, of course. Tawny Olin only loves herself. Once upon a time, she had maybe loved my father too, at least until it grew into hatred that she took out on me. I would still be given to a man that isn’t of my choosing, like she hopes will happen tonight. She’ll toss me away so I can no longer burden her pathetic life.

My eyes land on the boy in the picture kissing my cheek, my finger traces the side of his face.

And what of Liam?

He would still have his life of revenge, teetering on the edge of good and bad. My chest pulls tight from the guilt of what I did with Marco, and almost did with Breckin. I try to convince myself that I owe this man no loyalties. Hehatesme. Even threatened to kill me if I got between him and my father.

I huff in annoyance at the steady presence my conscience is deciding to have lately. Things I would have never thought twice about before are beginning to break me down. Liam did this to me. I fell in love with a man who makes me second-guess myself. He makes me feel remorse, and other things, when I can’t even have him.

He’s better off without me, though, because I’m too selfish to be what he needs.

Just like my fucking mother.

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