Ruthless (Girlxintersex) Valentine's Novel

Chapter 8

Season 1 Episode 8

Mahira POV

My mother was alone on the terrace when I discovered her. She appeared to be childless despite having three children. She had a young visage and had aged well. Her jet black hair was gradually merging in with the upcoming darkness, with nary a speck of gray hair visible.

"Hi, Mom." I kissed each of her cheeks before sitting on the well weathered sofa.

She nodded. "Is dinner soon gonna be ready?"

"No. But I've searched the entire home for you."

"I wonder?" Her face grimaced as she turned to face me. "It must be important." My mother worked on the firm with dad, but now she just sits back and relaxes.

She consistently advised him to let us manage the firm. But he clearly does not trust us.

"Well, dad, he practically cut me off."

She arched an eyebrow, astonished by this, and I suppose, like me, she was left in the dark. I smirked. That meant she was going to take my side. She'd chastise Dad, and he'd give me back power, as well as my entire money, so I won.

"He did?"

"Yes."

"He fired you from the company?"

"Well, not technically. But he's letting someone else run across my floor. Not fair." I complained.

"Somebody else?" Is she truly unaware of what dad was up to? "Hmm."

"What do you want me to do?"

Was she serious? What do I want her to do? I sneered, raking my hand through my well-pressed hair in rage. I need my fucking full pay.

"I am confident that everything your father has done has benefited both you and the firm." When she suddenly fell in love with what she did? She always had her own point of view, and most of them papa had to deal with.

"Tell him that I want my complete payment. How am I going to survive in LA, Mom, if I don't have any money?" I turned my head, taking a sip from the glass of champagne that had been handed to me.

The drink was sufficient to chill me off.

"Your Dad..."

"Mom, please tell Dad to give me what is properly mine."

"We've all been keeping an eye on you. You are not entitled to anything." How could I not be entitled to nothing? They have chosen to have me. They are more than entitled to spend every single cent on me till they die.

"I know we indulged you, but it's about time you understood money isn't everything."

"You see it all." I responded, motioning to the huge home in the middle of Beverly Hills. "Takes money. So, money is everything."

"We'll talk about this another time, Mahira. You should know that we do not discuss business during dinner."

"Mom, you understand why I needed the money."

"I understand." Her sweet voice said. "But Rory isn't coming back, so you won't find her. You're just blowing up money."

"Do not tell me that. Because Luca and Legend cannot seem to quit flying to Dubai."

"To do business."

Swarms of flies could fly into my mouth, which was as wide as a hole. So that's what they've been telling Mom and Dad. That they were conducting "business" in Dubai while actually interacting with women.

"Please, Mom."

"It won't last long. Just until you understand the value of money."

"How can I understand the value of money when I won't have much to spend?"

"Simply put, you'll understand that money should be kept and used on occasion."

I muttered as I walked away; she plainly didn't know what she was talking about. She might have gone crazy.

***********

Seeing as how I couldn't connect with my mother, I stayed away from the dinner table. I wasn't hungry for food. I was starving for money. Instead, I locked myself in one of the several bed rooms that I am confident no one sleeps in. I had to toss my outfit since it was too tight.

With my feet propped up in the air and my eyes fixed on the television, I reclined on my stomach at the foot of the bed.

The television was turned down, and nothing exciting was happening. It was preferable to be at a dinner where everyone was free to spend their money as they pleased. I felt tricked and assaulted. I need to locate Rory. The girl was simple to locate. Her distinctive ginger hair, which she claimed she would never color. Her brown eyes had a natural beam. Her facial structure is stunning, as is her gigantic 6'0 height. She would be easy to recognize in any crowd.

My serenity was disrupted when I heard a tapping sound just outside the vacant hall.

The house was not fully furnished, and simply strolling around generates a haunting echo. As I listened closer, I realized it sounded more like a stick than feet.

I grumbled at the noise and went for the remote to turn up the volume on the television. The sound got closer as it went on. My eyes widened as I noticed a sleek black walking stick between the slightly ajar door, pushing it open.

"Don't come in." I gave a warned growl. Unaffected, she pushed the door farther wider. I could see her smirk, her gaze fixed on my body, and as I gazed, I realized I was nude. She was looking at my nude body.

"Do not stare at me!" I scowled. She stepped in and closed the door.

"Here is a breakdown of your salary." She strolled to the bed, dropping the paper down. I seized it. My eyes move fast, looking for the amount I'll be receiving.

It was not half a hundred thousand bucks. It was a fourth of it.

"Twenty fuckin' thousand dollars."

"A lot right."

"How am I meant to live in Los Angeles with only $20,000 to my name?"

I felt like I was going to die just looking at the money. How...what?

"My penthouse alone costs about ten thousand dollars. That excludes home expenses and meals. What am I expected to do? Eat from a garbage can?" I was shivering with rage.

Obtaining $20,000 every month is equivalent to obtaining $20 to shop at Chanel. It just makes no fucking sense.

"Well, when I see that you're spending that $20,000 correctly, I'll ultimately increase it. It is not a temporary situation."

"It may as well be. You listen to me, cocksucker; I have a vacation to organize. Do you believe this will get me where I want?" I put the paper in her face.

She only gazed, emotionless; it appeared like her entire body weight was dependent on the walking stick, and it wouldn't be that horrible to kick it away from her.

"I will be extremely careful how you speak to me, Mahira. I now own your money."

"I don't give fuck." I spit.

"Really." She lifted her eyebrow. She moved closer to me, her walking stick creaking with each stride.

"You do not have to. You actually don't. You'll just keep seeing four zeros instead of five."

At first, I didn't understand what she meant, but when I returned my gaze to the paper, I understood it was the money. The fact that I went from five zeros to four was really ludicrous.