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Yes, he had been tempted, and I guess you could say he relapsed, because he was called out, put on the spot. It was like dangling a steak in front of a hungry dog; of course they're going to try and take a bite.

“I don't believe you.” Glaring at him, fire glowed beneath my lids.

“Believe it, he's fighting. I'm sorry Honey, I know you really liked him, but now he's off the table.” Holding the paper up, it swayed between his fingers.

I wanted to rip it out of his hands, and burn it to ashes. He was fucking with me and I knew it. He did something to make him sign his soul to the devil, this couldn't have been done willingly.

How could Quinn have been caressing my lips, fucking me with his eyes, only to turn his view completely and rush out in silence?

“No. This isn't right. What did you do? Did you threaten him? What did you say?!” I lunged toward his desk, looming over him. “You forced him to do this, how? Why? Tell me!” My fists came down hard on his desk, the small lampshade rocked with the vibration.

This man had controlled me all my life, taught me to love and fear him. Standing in front of him now, disdain was all that I could taste in the back of my throat.

“It doesn't matter, he belongs to the Ground Game, and to me now.” His brows dipped down, muscles freezing against his face. An emotionless expression glared over me. “He's not yours, he's mine.”

“That's it, I'm done.” Throwing my arms up, I said, “You think you can just do whatever the hell you want, that you're entitled to own people. Guess what? You don't own me, not anymore.” Turning my back to him, I was ready to close him out of my life, wash my hands of the man who raised me.

“Cadence, you know that's not how this works. You might want to watch what you're saying.” Jolting up from his chair, he strolled in my direction, folding the paper and shoving it in his front pocket. “I know you're upset, he sweet talked you and now he's agreeing to work for me. I'm sorry for that.”

“Stop it,” I said, raising my hand. “This isn't right.” Inching towards me, his fingers stretched over my shoulder, creeping across like a spider. “Don't touch me!” Jerking away, I stepped back.

“Don't disrespect me.” His fingers twined together, tugging the trim of his blazer. “I don't want this to get ugly, but you're getting out of line.”

Rolling my eyes, my jaw fell open. “Out of line? You know what, go to hell, Asshole.”

A loud crack rang through my ear, hot pins hitting my cheek, and spreading like liquid over my skin. My hand sprung up to soothe the sting, glaring at him, I tore the door open. “You don't control me anymore, I'm done.” Stepping through the threshold with my shoulders pressed back and head held high, I finally felt some sense of myself, andwho I was.

The strong power I had buried deep inside, the tiny flame that seethed without being noticed, had engulfed into a burning inferno.

I made my way out to the street, ignoring the customers as they eyed me, and Nico with his stupid fucking smirk.

Tonight I had quit, and as far as I was concerned, this bar could be shoved up his ass too.

The rain continued to fall, all day the gray sky wreaked havoc, pouring hoards of water over the city. The sewers were working overtime to keep the streets clear from flooding, water rolled like thin rivers down the pavement.

Stepping off the sidewalk, my foot was suddenly drenched by the four inch puddle hidden against the concrete.

Shit, could this day get any worse?

The guy I'm falling for suddenly decides to sign his life away to my dad, the man I should be able to go to for advice- is a fucking selfish waste of life.

What the hell am I supposed to do?

Lifting my head to the darkening sky, I searched for an answer.

I wanted one to fall down and hit me in the face, just so I didn't have to think anymore.

Lately, thinking hurt like hell.

Standing on the edge of insanity and the sidewalk, I sat down. The wet cement soaked my jeans, turning my ass a deep shade of blue, giving off the impression I had pissed myself.

If I stood up and strolled away, anyone behind me would assume I was a drunk who couldn't make it to a bathroom, or just didn't care to.

But at this point, I didn't give a shit what anybody thought.

Rubbing the sore apple of my cheek, my fingers traced the swelling outline, a raised shadow of his palm emerging.

Fucking asshole, hitting me like that. Real good role model, a true man...