Page 73 of Come Here and Kiss Me

Brooklyn

Ro gave me ten million, and I’ll spend every fucking penny to see my father burn in hell. Ro’s father too.

I fucking hate them. I’ve never hated anyone more. They have everything they could possibly ever need in the world, and they choose to spend their time and resources hurting others. Fuck them. Fuck them straight to hell.

I always knew my family was fucked up. I always knew these circles were cutthroat. But I still managed to be shocked and feel betrayed. I’m too fucking naive for this life.

I’m surprised I made it this far.

To violate me like that, for what?

A lesson?

It’s always a fucking lesson. And I take it and crawl back… but not this time.

I’ve had a week to process. A scream session with a therapist. And I’ve gone through at least a dozen bottles of wine with Aspen.

This, though, this is the cherry on top.

I’ve lived my life with my name dragged. With every little thing I’ve done highlighted and scrutinized while the people closest to me got away with every little shitty thing.

This is my wall. Videotaping a private moment and sharing it to shame me. That is something I won’t let go. I don’t care what it costs. I don’t care what it says about me. I care about putting the truth out there for all to see.

My father will pay for what he did to me.

As if summoning the devil himself, the door to the conference room opens. He walks in first, a dark blue suit and a slim navy tie that doesn’t quite match. The frown that mars his face only makes him look older.

In fact, I’ve never seen him look so weathered. Good.

My lawyer stands from his seat to the left of me, but I stay seated and silent.

His lawyer follows him in. A skinny fellow who looks like he’s lost a few nights of sleep. Hopefully over representing this piece of shit.

My father looks at me like I’m a gnat he can’t quite swat, and I hold his gaze. Inside, I’m fuming, but outside, I feel nothing.

He’s nothing to me.

Never again will he have any piece of me or part in my life.

“Please have a seat,” my lawyer, Mr. Anderson, says, gesturing to the seats opposite me.

His lawyer pulls out the two chairs at once, one for him and one for my father, but my father remains standing. Just seeing him builds a rage inside me that’s barely tempered, but also pain. Undeniable pain. I can’t help it. I wish I could just turn it off, but I can’t.

“I’m not here to fucking negotiate.”

The shock on his lawyer’s face mirrors my own. I can only imagine what they expected him to do versus what he intended.

He’s gotten away with doing what he pleases his entire life, in business and even worse in his personal world.

“The audacity of this bitch to sue me,” he sneers. “You had worse coming, ungrateful bitch.”

I say nothing at first even though my throat swells with emotion, and listen to his lawyer’s recommendation as professionally as possible for him to leave the room.

I wonder, had I been crying, if my father would have held it in a minute longer. Just to enjoy the pain he put me through.

“If this isn’t going to go anywhere—” my lawyer starts, and his lawyer responds with frantic urgency.

“I just need a moment with my client.”He steps closer to my father, but he can’t do anything to contain him. He’s used to telling me how it is. He’s used to getting away with treating me however he’d like. He’s done it all my life.

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