Stupid Rich Girl

$ 36 - Confrontation

~ Baby butterflies don't exist ~

Rosen

I slowly trudged up the concrete steps of the house. The cold and bitter three am air pricking any visible part of my skin that ached the more I moved. I fell agaisnt the wooden bench on the patio. It creaked under my weight, filling the silence around me. I flung my hoodie over the arm of the bench and I threw the bundle of cash next to me, knowing that isn't going anywhere but the old man's pocket.

I had just dropped Léna home. Well more like threw her off the bike considering how she latched onto it like a leach. She had insisted she come to the Graveyard with me. It was Monday-well technically Tuesday now- but I'm not one for specifics. A day after the carnival. Today school went as how it used to be between me and Léna and I can officially say I missed it. Well say it to myself of course, not to her, her ego is already too big.

Of course I still have that nagging little voice in the back of my head telling me I've befriended the most wanted treasure in the mafia, but I try to ignore it when I think of the relationship they had with my mother. Some may blame them for my mothers death, and I can see where they could make that point, but it was my father who chose to work for them and it was my mother who married him despite that.

A rush of deja vu flooded my mind as I sat there and watched as the white headlights entered the drive way. I didn't move as they pulled to a stop right in front of the patio and it was suddenly dark again. The echo of a car door slamming shut followed by stumbling footsteps that got louder as they neared me.

My father climbed up the steps carelessly. He glanced over in my direction, catching my stare but I didn't look away. Not even when his gaze turned cold and settled into a menacing glare that I used to fear.

He caught sight of the bundle of cash beside me and a flash of relief flooded his orbs as he made a move to walk towards it. That mere movement was enough for me to build my courage out of the adrenaline that pumped my body. The anger of the lies over the years was fueling it. I grabbed the cash and stood up in front of him.

He looked taken back for a second but quickly recovered it with a spiteful look. He was about to take a step forwards again but I thought it was the right time to open my mouth.

"Lorenzo Serraturas"

He stopped.

His glare dropped and he stared.

"Where did you hear that name?" His voice was dead. It gave me no sign as to what he was thinking or feeling. What his next move would be. And neither did his facial expression.

"It doesn't matter who I heard it from. What matters is that I didn't hear it from you" I snapped confidently. I safely decided it was best not to mention Lénas name yet. My father has shown me no reason to trust him over the years, despite how obviously close he was to her during his time when he protected her, it still never settled or processed with me quite well. I only know of the man before me.

"You have no right to stand in front of my house and-"

"And you had no right to lie about our own mothers death to us over the years" I interrupted strongly. For the first time, I felt brave enough to confidently stand up to my father instead of a slight mutter. Though, I knew it wasn't real, and I was only running on strong emotions I've built I've bottled up since I was seven.