Her voice is barely more than a whisper, but I can hear the confusion and hurt. Didn't he know what she was capable of? Did he realize how hard she worked? Didn't he understand his only child at all?
“Another inadequacy!” he snaps as he runs his free hand through his hair. “We'll rectify that immediately. I am so disappointed in you, Elena.”
He tugs on her wrist, trying to drag her towards the door. The force he uses makes me flinch, and I step forward as he grunts, “You will have to fix your hair and get back out there. Maybe if you sing something it will recover a little of my pride.”
“She can't sing either,” I call out. “She's tone-fucking-deaf.” Standing with my arms crossed, I give him a smug grin and relish the way his lip curls up in disgust.
“Tris…” Lena warns, and I can see the conflict on her face as she wrestles with trying to be a 'good girl' for her father and wanting to be herself. He really has done a number on her, conditioning her to need his approval, to break herself in order to be perfect for him.
“What did you say, boy?” He seethes as he drops Lena's arm and storms over to me, stopping when our toes touch, his face inches away from mine. It's an intimidation tactic, but Randolph can't touch me without backlash from my father, not because my father cares about me but because it would be a matter of honor within The Society. If he so much as spat on my shoe, my father would demand retribution. “Don't you start interfering. This is nothing to do with you.”
I straighten my shoulders, at full height I'm four inches taller than the smarmy politician. “Lena is my fiancée, it has everything to do with me.”
With our eyes locked, I reach up the small space between us and lick my index and middle finger slowly, throwing it in his face that they were just buried knuckle deep inside the woman he is trying to control.
Grabbing my jacket, Randolph pulls back his first to swing for me, but Lena throws herself on his arm instead. There's a loud crack as he turns and slaps her, the sharp noise echoing around the marble room.
“You'll pay for that,” I snarl.
“I'm not afraid of you, boy,” he sneers, ignoring Lena, who is turned away from us, clenching her cheek.
“It's not me you need to be afraid of,” I say with a half-smile.
Lena turns to look at him, and it's almost like slow motion as her tongue flicks out to taste the blood droplet that has formed on her lip. On one of the stands, up for auction, is a jewelled dagger, with several blood-red rubies encrusted on the hilt, glinting in the low lighting. Lena doesn't even pause as she grabs it and unsheathes the blade.
“I am quitting the cheerleading squad.” Her voice is steady as she takes a step towards him. It was like this with Sam. And Selena. She's calm and collected when she embraces her monstrous side, it's like a switch has been flipped inside her, and I love it. I love her.
“Like hell, you will not shame this family.” Randolph doesn't flinch, but his nostrils flare ever so slightly. He isn't used to being defied.
“I am never going to play the violin again.” Another step closer.
“You will learn to behave, young lady!" Spittle flies from his mouth as his body begins to tremble, but it isn't fear. It's the anger. It's her defiance that's making Randolph come unstuck, like shitty glue.
“And I will be going to college.” She brings the blade up to her father's neck.
He scoffs, but I can see the way his eyes flit around the room as he thinks of an exit strategy. “If you think you're going anywhere after this stunt—you are sorely mistaken.”
“You have no power over me.” She growls as she forces her father to his knees. “Listen carefully, if you lay another finger on me, or if you threaten Tristan again—I will destroy you. I am not a child. I am not a doll, and I will not be your show pony.”
He opens his mouth to chastise her, but she pushes the blade in deeper. A bead of blood begins to form, and we all watch, mesmerized as it runs down the blade, and I can see why the creator chose the ruby handle. There's something beautiful about the color of crimson as it glimmers.
“Do you understand me?” The warning in her voice is clear, and it feels like Randolph is seeing his daughter for the first time as he watches her wearily.
“Yes,” he fumes, his voice quieter now. “But this is not over. If you think I'll allow you to marry that boy—”
“I'll allow her. Hell, I'll even pay for the whole thing,” a soft feminine voice purrs as Adeline Montgomery sashays into the room, followed by four masked people. I recognize Devin Johnson and Gisette Grim, but I can't tell who the others are in this lighting, but I'm not surprised. Randolph always did underestimate his wife, rookie mistake.
Adeline moves over to Lena and takes the knife gently out of her hand with what I would almost describe as a proud smile, before she places it back on its pedestal.
Taking a seat on the chaise lounge Lena and I were just making out on, Adeline crosses her leg, revealing a generous amount of skin as she leans forward and addresses her husband. “Lena will do whatever she wants with her life, Randolph. She is eighteen and has the potential to be someone incredible, I won't let you stamp that out for your own failing political gains.”
“Failing?” Her father sputters as he tries to rise, but one of the masked Society members pushes him back down.
Looking at the rings on her fingers, Adeline sounds bored and unsympathetic as she explains, “The Society has decided that your reign must come to an end. You
