Blood stained the floor in front of her. Her hands weren't much better. She simply stared at the boy before her as he stuttered up some sort of excuse.
"I-"
"Save it. You're lucky I don't hand your ass to Cole for being so rude to me. You're aware of who's island you live on, right?" She pulled a handkerchief from her jean pocket and began wiping the red from her hands.
"Yes, Miss Mitchell."
"Exactly. Now, I don't want to see you ever again, Leo. If I see your face anywhere near me I will have you pushed off the dock never to resurface. Understood?"
The usually tall boy was cowering to almost half his height. "Yes, yes I'm-"
"As soon as people begin to realise who I am and the power I hold things will be a lot easier. Don't you agree?"
"Yes, Miss."
"Good, now leave." With a sigh, the blonde turned towards the direction of her home, still wiping her hands. Pushing the door open, she stormed into the kitchen for the first-aid kit so she could properly bandage her knuckles.
A firm hand on her shoulder caused her to jump. There she stood, Kimberly Mitchell. "How many times are we going to have this conversation, Arabella?"
"When people start to respect me." Arabella shrugged casually.
"You're ten, if you have a problem you speak to your father or me." Kim took the wipe from her daughter's hand and tended to the wounded knuckles herself.
"You'd be better than me." She spoke with her voice laced full of sarcasm.
"If you're not going to speak to me properly then I can't help you." Kimberly looked defeated. Her hands dropped from her child's and tucked themselves into her trousers.
Arabella turned her back, "I don't need your help, I didn't then and I don't now." And with that, she left.
YOU ARE READING
Professional Disaster
RomanceBook 3 in the professional Series I hate my life. I hate my parents. I hate the money. I want to be normal. My brother is a suck up and wants to follow in my father's footsteps, but all I want is to be. Everyone knows where they fit, everyone knows...
