sinners of the night (dark romance) READ!!

Your just like your mother

Lila

The front door slammed, rattling the entire house. I froze, my hand tightening around the glass of water I'd been holding. The ice clinked against the sides, but it wasn't enough to drown out the sound of my father's footsteps.
He's home.
My stomach twisted. It was late—too late. He shouldn't be here. Not like this. I hadn't heard from him all day, but that wasn't unusual. He disappeared, came back whenever he felt like it, and I'd learned not to ask questions.
I set the glass down carefully, the clatter against the counter louder than it should've been. The air was thick, heavy. I could feel the tension creeping through the walls, suffocating me. My heart raced, and every instinct screamed at me to run. But I didn't. I couldn't.
His voice echoed down the hallway, slurred and rough. "Lila!"
I clenched my fists at my sides. I'd been through this too many times to count, but it never got easier. The fear that came with him—it was like a dark cloud, hanging over me, suffocating me. But I'd learned how to hide it. How to wear the mask.
I turned, forcing my feet to move, forcing myself to go toward him, even though every step felt like a betrayal. He stood at the entrance to the living room, his tie loose, shirt wrinkled, and his eyes bloodshot.
Drunk.
Again.
"Where the hell have you been?" His words slurred together, but the anger was there, simmering just beneath the surface.
"I was here," I said, my voice steady, rehearsed. "Taking care of Josh. He's asleep upstairs."
He took a step forward, and I could smell the alcohol on him—whiskey, cheap, burning. His eyes narrowed, and that familiar sneer twisted across his face. "Always here. Always so perfect, aren't you?"
I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. I knew what was coming. I could see it in the way his fingers twitched at his sides, the way his jaw clenched. I'd lived through it before, but it never stopped the fear, the way my heart pounded in my chest.
"Dad, maybe you should sit down—"
Before I could finish, his hand shot out, knocking the glass off the counter. It shattered against the floor, shards scattering across the tiles. My body jerked at the sound, but I didn't move.
"Sit down?" His voice was louder now, the rage building. "Don't you dare tell me what to do. I'm the head of this house. I make the rules, Lila."
I pressed my lips together, forcing the words down. This wasn't a fight I could win. It never was. All I could do was stand there and take it, the same way I always had. But tonight, something inside me felt different—darker. The weight of everything—the funeral, the grief, the silence—it was crushing me. And now, my father, standing there like a ticking time bomb, ready to explode.
"You're nothing without me," he spat, stumbling closer. His hand grabbed my arm, too tight, fingers digging into my skin. "You think you're so much better? So much stronger?"
I bit down hard on my lip, tasting blood. His grip hurt, but I wouldn't flinch. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
"Look at me," he growled, yanking me closer. My heart pounded in my chest, but I met his eyes. "You're just like your mother. Useless. A waste of space."
I felt the words like a slap. Like they were meant to break me apart piece by piece. And maybe they would've if I hadn't already been broken. If I hadn't been living in this nightmare for so long, watching everything I loved fall apart.
I wasn't even here anymore. Not really. I was somewhere else, floating above it all, trying to escape the weight of it.
"I don't care," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "I don't care anymore."
That seemed to push him over the edge. His hand flew out, and I felt the sting before I registered the impact. My face burned, the sharpness of his slap ringing in my ears. My head whipped to the side, and for a second, I just stood there, frozen, the shock settling in.
But then something inside me snapped.
"I said, I don't care," I repeated, louder this time. My vision blurred with unshed tears, but I blinked them back, straightening my shoulders, standing taller even though everything inside me was crumbling.
He let out a low growl, shoving me away, and I stumbled back, barely catching myself on the edge of the counter. My cheek throbbed, but I didn't touch it. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing the pain.
"You'll care when I'm done with you," he muttered, stumbling toward the stairs. "Just wait."
I watched him disappear, my body shaking, the adrenaline coursing through me, making it hard to breathe. The room felt too small, the walls closing in. I pressed my hand to my chest, trying to steady my heartbeat, trying to keep myself from falling apart completely.
But it was too late.
I was already in pieces. And there was no one left to put me back together.

The next day was hell. I dragged myself out of bed, barely managing to throw on my uniform—a black blazer and skirt, with a crisp white blouse underneath. I hadn't even bothered with makeup; what was the point? I could barely keep my eyes open, and the dark bruise on my side was aching, no matter how much I tried to hide it beneath the fabric.

The halls of school felt colder today, each step echoing louder than usual. The whispers followed me like a shadow. I'd hoped the injury would stay hidden, but of course, it was already making rounds. The ache in my body was nothing compared to the weight on my shoulders.

When I walked into the cafeteria, Felix was leaning against the wall, talking to a couple of guys from his group. His eyes met mine across the room, and I could almost feel the weight of his gaze.

"Nice of you to finally show up," he sneered, his voice dripping with a dark undertone. I tried to ignore him, focusing on finding a spot where I could eat in peace.

But he followed me. "What's that on your side? Got into another fight?"

I could feel the anger bubbling up inside me. "Just leave me alone, Felix. I don't want to deal with you today."

He stepped closer, his expression hardening. "Can't just let it go, can I? You've been MIA and now you're limping around like you've been in a boxing ring. What happened?"

The words hit harder than I'd expected. I felt a sting of frustration. "It's none of your business. Why do you care, anyway?"

His gaze softened slightly, but it was still clouded by that dark, inscrutable look. "I don't. Just figured you might have something to say about it."

I clenched my jaw, trying to hold back tears of frustration. "Well, I don't. So why don't you just get lost?"

Felix's eyes flickered with something—annoyance, maybe, or a hint of concern. It was hard to tell. "Fine. Don't talk. But don't expect me to just pretend I don't see you falling apart."

He turned away, leaving me standing there, feeling exposed and raw. It wasn't sympathy I wanted from him; it was just... silence. But even that felt like too much.

As I sat down at a table, trying to focus on my food, the pain in my side and the weight of everything that had happened pressed down on me. I was barely holding it together, and the last thing I needed was Felix's dark scrutiny adding to it.

The day dragged on, each class a blur of half-hearted lectures and disinterested students. All I wanted was for it to be over, to collapse into my bed and forget about everything for a few hours.