Page 32 of Tyrant (The Villetti Chronicles)

“Yes.”

I wanted to slap his fucking face if only to provoke some emotion out of him. His voice was utterly calm. Too calm.

“I came to you for help to make sure he didn’t go to war. You cannot possibly think I will allow him to go after McGovern over me.”

He put a hand in his pocket.

“You’re not allowing anything.”

“Are you going to stop it?”

He looked me over, blinking slowly as he did it.

“Right now? No. I’m not going to do anything.”

I swear I misheard him. He couldn’t sit back and do nothing. I knew my father. He would act. I was his everything. His precious daughter, who he fought to keep out of his world. I was in it anyway. I’d killed his brother and run to a man I shouldn’t have to hide the truth. Tears sprung behind my eyes. My fists clenched as I blinked them away.

I would not cry. I was not going to cry.

You are strong. You’re going to do what’s necessary to stop this.

“If my dad goes to war, he may not come back from it. Everything I did would be for nothing. This shit with you, it would be for nothing. I won’t let him die for me.”

Zayn stepped towards me. He stared down at me with those terrifyingly calm, almost black eyes of his.

“What does that mean, Arianna?”

“It… it…” I faltered, trying to find where the fuck my courage went.

It ran away with his closeness, turning all of my senses against me. Made me want to burrow myself in his stupid chest and cry my eyes out over the thought of my father dead, shot in the fucking street like an animal. It’s what McGovern and his gang would do. Execute my father. They would do it in a heartbeat if provoked.

I hated myself for the urge. I hated myself even more because I knew my next words would only end with me being punished for my outburst. Somehow, I couldn’t find it in me to care.

“It means I’ll go back to him and stop this madness,” I whispered because my voice was a traitor against Zayn and his intimidating presence.

Zayn leant closer.

“You know I can’t let you do that. It’s not part of the deal, Arianna, not when you’re mine.”

“I don’t want to be yours.”

Why the hell did you say that?

He reached up and tucked a curl behind my ear. It was as if I was a small child trying to tell off a grown man and failing miserably. That’s how he was looking at me. And I absolutely downright hated it.

“Yes, you do, my fiery little fairy. You might not want to admit it, but we both know you need me.”

I slapped his hand away from my face and glared at him.

“Don’t touch me,” I hissed. “I’m not your fucking toy, pet, or possession, as you so like to call me. And I don’t care what you do, I’m leaving.”

Zayn merely stared at me as if daring me to walk out the door. We both knew I wouldn’t. I had no idea where the fuck I was. I had no money, and I was pretty sure Zayn had my phone.

“Are you quite done with this little… tantrum?”

I wanted to stamp on his foot… no, I wanted to knee him in the fucking balls for that. This was not a tantrum. I was scared for my father, the only family I had left in the world after I’d stabbed my fucking uncle in the neck. My mother was a mystery to me, so I didn’t consider her family.

“Calling my concern for my father a tantrum? Real fucking nice, Zayn. What’s next? You going to call me a bad little girl and send me to my room without dinner?”

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