Page 35 of Unforgiving Queen

Ah, yes. Glass of water.

He leaned against the doorframe, watching me retrieve a glass and fill it with water. I handed it to him, hoping he wouldn’t notice the tremor in my hands.

“You look like your mother.” The offhand remark had my heart tripping over itself.

“So I’ve been told,” I muttered.

When he didn’t make any move to take the glass, I lowered it onto the counter. My fingers curled into my palms, noting his bulky figure blocking my exit. How was it possible for someone like him to father someone like Amon? Even Dante.

Cruelty steamed from his every pore.

“Did you know her?” I didn’t know why I asked, but the words were out in the world now and there was no taking them back.

“I did. Very well.” I couldn’t seem to get enough air into my lungs. My stomach lurched, and the memory of my parents’ argument rushed to my mind. “I knew her.”

I blinked, surprise washing over me. I stared at him, waiting for some explanation as a long moment of stretched silence passed. I couldn’t stop the beads of sweat from rolling down my back despite the draft in the apartment.

“How well?” I heard myself ask, although I didn’t think I was ready to hear the answer. The memory of our visit flickered in my mind. I remembered my mother’s lips thinning in displeasure when this man spoke to her. I met his cold dark stare, anger in my chest bubbling over. “How. Well. Did. You. Know. Her?”

He smiled an ugly, vicious smile. It wasn’t a good combination with his intoxicated state.

“Very well,” he said in a detached tone. “I was the one who opened her eyes to who your father really is. She shouldn’t havemarriedhim.” A snicker left him on the word “married” and it seemed to have significance. Except I couldn’t put my finger on it. “She wanted to use me to get back at him. Well, I used her too.”

My whole body became eerily still. “W-what?” My heart drummed under my ribs, cracking them with each beat as I waited for him to clarify his statement. He never did. “What do you mean?”

“It means she finally understood who’s the boss.” I swallowed, struggling with the information. “She needed an eye-opener, so I gave it to her. She learned what your father is about and the truth about who came before her.”

“W-who?” I stuttered.

“His previous wife.” My mouth parted and shock shot through me. Papà was married before? Why did that feel wrong? He had never mentioned it. Neither did Grandma. My head swam. My stomach lurched. “Don’t you know, girl?” he said, his voice taunting. “We all came into the world screaming and covered in someone’s blood. And we’ll leave the same way.”

I’d heard those words before, only slightly different. Mamma said them when she was dying.

We all came into this world screaming and covered in blood. All we can do is make sure we don’t leave the same way.

Did she hear that from him?

I was too wrapped up in pondering this information that I didn’t see the next move. For an intoxicated person, he moved fast. One minute he was casually leaning against the doorway, and the next his body slammed into mine, his sour breath against my bare flesh.

My head hit the cold metal of the fridge, sending a bolt of pain through my skull. The air wheezed out of my lungs and I tasted blood in my mouth.

My lungs burned. Fear rattled the cage of my panic, stealing all my oxygen.

I thrashed against him with all my strength, but it wasn’t enough. He backhanded me so hard that stars swam in my vision. He gripped both of my wrists and lifted them above my head. I refused to stop fighting.

Then a vicious slash burned on my arms, the familiar sting of pain as he tried to slit my wrists.

It was at that moment… that very moment… I decided I’d never cut myself again. I wanted to live. I was a survivor, and I’d be damned if I went down without a fight.

His hand wrapped around my throat, squeezing it with all his strength, and slammed my back against the fridge again with such force that my teeth clattered.

“Ah, little girl,” he growled. “You’re no match for me.”

“Let go of me, you bastard,” I croaked, miserably aware of my body’s weakness. “My family will destroy you.”

His grip tightened. I was getting light-headed, dots dancing before my vision. My heart jackhammered in my chest, fear—thick and sticky—filling my mouth.

"Which one of you brats is mine?”