King of Wrath: Chapter 36
King of Wrath
The Wednesday after I moved out of Danteâs house, I chartered a flight to Boston. According to my mom, whom Iâd called under the guise of discussing wedding arrangements, my father was already back home.
Iâd spent the plane ride rehearsing what I would say. But as I sat across from him in his office, listening to the clock tick and the shallow cadence of my breaths, I realized no amount of rehearsal couldâve prepared me for confronting my father.
Silence stretched between us for another minute before he leaned back and raised a bushy, gray-tipped brow. âWhatâs the emergency, Vivian? I assume you have something important youâd like to discuss if you showed up unannounced like this.â
He was the one who had something to apologize for, but his stern voice sent a knee-jerk spiral of shame through me. It was the same voice heâd used whenever I received anything less than a perfect test score. I tried not to let it affect me, but it was hard to overcome decades of conditioning.
âYes, I do.â I lifted my chin and straightened my shoulders, trying to summon the fire from two days ago. All I managed were a few puffs of smoke.
It was much easier to rant at my father in my head than in real life.
Part of the reason was how exhausted he looked. Heavy bags hung beneath his eyes while lines of worry formed deep crags and crevices across his face.
News articles had started popping up about trouble at Lau Jewels.
Nothing major yet, just a few whispers here and there, but they were a sign of the storm to come. The office buzzed with nervous energy, and stock values had dipped.
An unreasonable pang of guilt pierced my gut.
My father was responsible for this mess. I shouldnât feel guilty for calling him out on it, no matter how tired or stressed he was.
âWell?â he said impatiently. âI already pushed back a meeting for this.
Iâm not going to postpone it again. If you donât have anything to say now, weâll discuss it over dinââ
âDid you blackmail Dante into marrying me?â I blurted out the question before I lost my nerve.
My heart slammed against my ribcage as my fatherâs expression hardened into an unreadable mold.
The clock continued its deafening march toward the half hour.
âI overheard you. In Danteâs office.â I clutched the purse in my lap for support. I wasnât wearing tweed or neutrals today. Instead, Iâd opted for a custom-tailored silk sheath and an extra coat of red lipstick for confidence. I shouldâve put on two extra coats.
âIf you overheard, then why waste my time by asking?â My fatherâs tone was as indecipherable as his face.
An ember of anger sparked to life.
âBecause I want you to confirm it! Blackmail is illegal, Father, not to mention morally wrong. How could you do that?â I forced air past my tight chest. âAm I so undesirable you had to force someone into marrying me?â
âDonât be dramatic,â he snapped. âIt wasnât anyone. It was Dante Russo. Do you know the doors marrying a Russo would open? Even with our wealth and your sisterâs marriage, some people look down on us.
Theyâll invite us to their parties, and theyâll take our money for fundraisers, but they whisper behind our backs, Vivian. They think weâre not good enough. Marriage to Dante wouldâve shut those whispers down immediately.â
âYou blackmailed someone because of a few whispers?â I asked disbelievingly.
My father had always been conscious of his appearance and reputation.
Even before we were rich, heâd stretch our budget and insist on paying for the table during get-togethers with his friends so he didnât lose face.
But I never couldâve guessed his need for social validation ran this deep.
âThe opportunity arose, and I took it,â he said coolly. âHis brother was foolish and reckless. What were the chances Iâd catch him with Gabriele Romanoâs niece during a visit to New York?â An unrepentant shrug. âFate put him in my path, and I took advantage of it for our family. I wonât apologize for that.â
âYou couldâve chosen anyone else.â It was hard to hear over the buzz in my ears, but I pushed forward. âSomeone who wouldâve willingly agreed to an arranged marriage.â
âSomeone who wouldâve willingly agreed wouldnât have been good enough.â
âDo you hear yourself?â The embers fanned into flames. My fury came roaring back, so hot and bright it blurred my fatherâs face. âThese are peopleâs lives, not toys you can bend and manipulate. What if the photos leaked and Danteâs brother got killed? What if you got killed for holding onto the evidence? How could you be soâ¦â Cruel. Callous. Morally corrupt. â Short-sighted? Itâs notââ
âDonât raise your voice at me!â My father slammed his hands on the desk so hard the items on it rattled. âI am your father. You do not speak to me this way.â
My heart threatened to explode from my chest. âThe father I knew wouldâve never done this.â
The silence was so acute you could hear a moth flap its wings.
My father straightened and leaned back again. His gaze bore into me.
âYou only have the luxury of caring about morals because of me. I do what I have to do to make sure our family is protected and the best it can be. You and your sister grew up sheltered, Vivian. You have no idea what it took for me to get to where I am today because I shielded you from the ugly truth. The number of people who laughed in my face and stabbed me in the backâ¦it would make you sick. You think the world is rose-colored when itâs gray at best.â
âProtecting our family doesnât mean destroying someone elseâs. We donât stoop that low, Father. Itâs not who we are.â
The briefest shadow of remorse passed through his eyes before disappearing. âIâm the head of the family,â he said, his tone final. âWe are who I say we are.â
The words touched my skin, cold and unfeeling. A shiver skated down my spine.
âAnd my relationship with Dante?â The clasp of my purse dug into my palm. âDid you not think how your actions would affect me? Thereâs a difference between an arranged marriage and a forced one. I wouldâve had to spend my life with someone who resented me simply because you want his name in our family tree.â
âDonât act like a martyr,â my father said. âItâs unbecoming. Your sister never complained about being married to Gunnar, and she had to move to another country.â
âShe doesnât complain because they actually love each other. â
He continued like I hadnât spoken. âThere are worse things than being a billionaireâs wife. Youâre young and charming. You wouldâve worn Dante down eventually. In fact, he already seemed quite smitten with you over the holidays.â
âWell, youâre wrong,â I said flatly. âItâs over, Father. I moved out of Danteâs house. Weâre not getting married. Andâ¦â I glanced out the window onto the main office floor. âThe company isnât doing well.â
Because you provoked someone you shouldnât have.
The words sat unspoken between us.
My fatherâs jaw tightened. He hated being reminded things were less than perfect under his watch.
âThe company will be fine . Weâre merely experiencing a hiccup.â
âIt sounds like more than a hiccup.â
He stared at me, his ire melting into something more calculating.
âPerhaps youâre right,â he said. âIt might be more than a hiccup, in which case we could use Danteâs help. Heâs upset now, but he has a soft spot for you. Convince him toâ¦assist.â
Cold sank into my bones. âI told you, we broke up. He hates us. He doesnât have a soft spot for me or anyone else in the family.â
âThatâs not true. I saw the way he looked at you when your mother and I visited. Even if you broke up, Iâm sure you could make him see reason if you tried hard enough.â
The cold spread to the pit of my stomach.
I stared at my father, taking in his perfectly gelled hair, expensive suit, and flashy watch. It was like facing an actor pretending to be Francis Lau instead of the man himself.
How had he morphed from the slightly corny but well-meaning parent of my childhood into the person before me?
Cold. Devious. Obsessed with money and status and determined to gain âand keepâboth at any cost.
He looked the same, but I barely recognized him.
âI wonât.â My voice wavered, but my words were firm. âThis is your mess, Father. I canât help you.â
I hated how my mother and sister would be affected should Lau Jewels capsize, but I couldnât play pawn and possession for my father anymore.
Plus, they each had their own nest eggs; they would be fine, financially speaking.
Iâd turned the other cheek for too long. Been too willing to go along with whatever my parents told me to do because it was easier than rocking the boat and disappointing them. For all his faults, I loved my father and my family. I didnât want to hurt them.
But I didnât realize until now that not speaking up when they crossed the line would hurt us more in the long run than anything else.
Disbelief filled the grooves of my fatherâs face.
âYouâre choosing your ex-fiance over your family? Is this how we raised you?â he demanded. âTo be so disrespectful and disobedient?â He spat the word out like a curse.
âDisobedient?â Indignation blew through me like a sudden gale, sweeping aside any remnants of guilt. âIâve done everything youâve asked of me! I went to the ârightâ college, broke up with Heath, and played the role of perfect society daughter. I even agreed to marry a man I barely knew because it would make you happy. But Iâm done living my life for you.â
Emotion thickened my voice. âItâs my life, Father. Not yours. And the same way you canât make decisions for me any longerâ¦I canât make excuses for you. Not anymore.â
This time, the silence was so heavy it pressed down on me like a lead blanket.
âOf course, you are free to make your own decisions,â my father finally said, his voice terrifyingly calm. âBut I want you to know this, Vivian. If you walk out of this office today without making amends for your insolence, you are no longer my daughter. Or a Lau.â
His ultimatum barreled into me with the force of a runaway train, skewering my chest with a bayonet and filling my ears with the roar of blood.
The temperature dropped into subzero territory as we stared at each other, his cold fury waging silent battle with my pained determination.
There it was.
The invisible monster Iâd feared since childhood, laid out like a gruesome corpse of the relationship we used to have.
I could cover it with a blanket and look away, or I could stand my ground and face it head-on.
I rose, my blood electric with fear and adrenaline as my fatherâs composure slipped the tiniest fraction.
Heâd expected me to back down.
Iâm sorry. The apology almost fell off my tongue through force of habit before I remembered I didnât have anything to apologize for.
I wanted to stay a minute longer, to memorize his face and mourn something thatâd died a long time ago.
Instead, I turned and walked out.
Donât cry. Donât cry. Donât cry.
My father had disowned me.
My father had disowned me, and I hadnât tried to stop him because the price was too high.
Tears crowded my throat, but I forced them back even as a crushing sense of loneliness invaded me.
In the space of a week, Iâd lost my family and Iâd lost Dante.
The only thing I had left was myself.
And for now, that would have to be enough.