Page 83 of Loving the Tormentor

"What the fuck do you know about normal?" I hiss back. "You live in a bubble where people shit money. Go and try the outside world for once. Hey, even better, step foot on the North Shore and let's see how you come back next Monday."

"Is that a threat?" She laughs. "God, you're pathetic. And I'll have you know…"

The lights go down in the audience, as Miss Rivera often does to put people on stage in a real setting. But for me, it meansI can't read Evelyn's lips anymore. Someone fucks up on stage, the orchestra loses its harmony, and the noises from my right become overwhelming.

"What?" I repeat, sounding like such an idiot.

"Oh my God," she cackles. "Bitch, are you deaf?"

That does it for me. I fucking lose it. My fist lifts before I can control my movement, and her eyes widen when she realizes I'm about to redo her face. Her eyes squint, but something wraps around my wrist. A hand grabs the violin on my lap before pulling me into a standing position.

"Oh God," Evelyn whimpers. "Thank you, Achilles. She's literally dangerous. She needs to go back to her gang."

I grit my teeth as I pull at my arm to try to get away from Achilles. She needs to fucking die.

"You deserved that," Achilles says calmly to her, his pompous tone as useful as a gun to put her six feet under. "I'm not protecting you. I'm protecting her. After all, this orchestra could use a good soloist for once. I wouldn't want Nyx to be kicked out before she does us that favor."

The look on her face is better than any black eye I would have given her. She shakes her head, stands up, and disappears somewhere else in the audience.

"Don't fall for her stupid games," he says as he turns to me. "You're so much better than that, and you know it."

My gaze falls to his hand still wrapped around my wrist, and back up to his eyes. Even through the darkness, his steel eyes cut through me, slashing down to my soul to find out the best ways to tear me apart entirely.

"Let go. Now," I reply coldly.

Achilles has been trying to get into Peach's house since the second the door closed behind me last Monday. Every single day, he was there, being turned away by Peach. Hell, he even tried to get in through her balcony, apparently advised by Wrenthat it was an easy way in, but she caught him and was a second away from pushing him off when I stopped her and politely asked him not to try again.

I hate him, but I don't want him to die.

Yet.

As long as he doesn't push me too far.

You're too forgiving. That's what he said to me when I stopped Peach from attempted murder yesterday. Even he taunted me that he did something bad enough that I shouldn't forgive him while he was trying to get my forgiveness.

You're too forgiving, and that's how I'll get you back, mon trésor.

After that, I searched online for whatmon trésormeans. I shouldn’t have.

My treasure. How the hell am I supposed to hate him when he calls me his treasure?

I know I'm too forgiving. I've forgiven my dad for his thousand betrayals. I forgave Chase when he came back smelling like other women, when he treated me like shit, when he held my dad's debts over my head, dangling the money to make me stay with him.

I forgive because if I didn't, I'd have no one.

No one has ever made the effort tonotmake horrendous mistakes with me. No one has everaskedfor forgiveness. You can't give something they don't believe is required. You just keep going.

Of course I hated what my dad did, but my mom had already left. I didn't want to have no parents. And I didn't want to lose Chase, so I went along with it.

Now I've got neither of them, and that's because of Achilles's selfishness to want me all to himself. Yes, he's right. I'm too forgiving, but that doesn't mean I'm going to make the same mistake I've made plenty of times before.

"Achilles," I repeat sternly when his grip tightens around me. "Let me go."

"I don't want to let you go," he answers, but there's none of his typical casualness. It sounds honest, like this isn't about physically letting me go at all.

"Sometimes it's not about what Achilles Duval wants, did you know that?" I say through gritted teeth. "Us commoners have rights too."

"You're no commoner,mon trésor. You–"