Irish Whiskey - An Ex-Lovers to Lovers Standalone

3

TW: Violence/Abuse

I m o g e n

[20 y/o, 2011, eight months before the Olympics, Montpelier]

{Wednesday, 7:43 pm}

I have been kneeling in front of Father's office for three hours. I can't even move because Fernandes is keeping an eye on me. If I even breathe a bit too loudly, he'll hit my back with that bloody stick he's holding. I bit my lip and suppressed my anger.

Father has yet to return home. And each second seemed to pass by excruciatingly slowly. I locked my sisters in the nursing room, out of father's sight so they were out of danger. Alice is old enough to pacify them in my absence. I took relief in that fact and waited patiently for my punishment.

"Why did you hit him?" I felt that woman's presence behind me, but I didn't move. I have no obligation to answer the woman who abandoned her daughters.

"Imogen, tell me, if I find your answer reasonable, I'll plead with Harold to lessen your punishment." She came closer to me and I saw her expensive shiny heels in my peripheral. Her life became so much better after giving birth to a son that she forgot her daughters. I spat on her shoes out of spite.

Immediately, I felt a blunt impact on my back. That bastard Fernandes hit me. This time he hit me with all his might. He must have been waiting for a reason to do so.

"Fuck you." I rasped and I glared at the woman, I once called mother. The shock in her eyes didn't make me feel better, maybe if she dropped dead—

Fernandes hit my back again, for 'talking back to the mistress', he said, but I know he doesn't give two shits about this woman. He just wanted a reason to hit me, harder.

"Stop it, Fernandes," Sadie commanded. The authority in her tone was foreign to me. I had stopped paying attention to her after she let Abigail get hit by our father for not giving her toy to Janus. Her happiness at the expense of our lives disgusted me.

"Boss's orders." The brute man grunted as he commanded me to sit up straight. My back screamed in pain as I straightened my spine. This is going to cause complications in the long run.

"I'm talking to my daughter," Sadie's voice sharp, "if you could give us some space Fernandes." She put her foot down this time and for some strange reason, Fernandes did back down. She's changed.

"I know you don't consider me your mother anymore—" "No shit Sherlock." I spat back before she could finish her sentence, "—but I can't let you get injured when the Olympics are just around the corner. You need to be in good health to perform." She pressed on.

Ah, so this is why she came. I laughed at myself for the hope that bubbled in my stomach. She's changed, she's not our mother anymore. Sadie Stewart doesn't give two shits about our situation anymore. All she cares about are her husband, son and their reputation.

"Don't worry Sadie, Father won't break me this time. Like he ever could." I gave her my best smirk. I was gasping for air as I struggled to sit up straight. My throat was parched and black spots surrounded my vision. But I won't let her, of all people, see it. I commanded my body to stay still.

"Imogen stop being so stubborn and just tell me why you hit Janus." Sadie's voice grew desperate. Why does she care anyway?

"I have nothing to say to you. I'll take my punishment like I've done countless times before. My only regret this time is that I didn't kill Janus."