1: The Conversation

SADIE.

“Your father is waiting for you.” My aunt, Kitra informs me as I walk in.

Fu.ck the fact that I know every single word he is about to spew, and although I regard no one. He is the only person I respect and take orders from. I am about to be questioned on my first failure and I think I owe nobody an explanation. Not even the person I respect the most.

“Okay.” I respond, and walk past her as I head straight for his tacky study which he refers to as his best part of the large house.

Taking off my gloves, I drop them on the floor and knock before entering without his response. Super annoying how this man in his late sixties still has women messing around him. Not a surprise because he plays a better sugar daddy than they could imagine. And his looks are a hundred and ten over hundred. 

“Get out.” I say to the wench who is seated comfortably on his desk. 

“Who is she?” She asks, as she runs her red manicured nails from his Adam's apple to his exposed chest as she eyes me. 

“You heard what she said.” My father, as usual, sounded nonchalant and cold.

I absolutely fail to miss the expression of hurt that flashes through her face before she hops off his desk in an attempted sexy manner, and of course my father’s eyes follow her every movement with interest. I think he really likes this one. 

“At least give me a call later. Do not forget the money you promised me. It is urgent.” She says as she does her zip.

Plopping myself on one of the sofas, I slouch and shut my eyes. Only opening them when I hear the door being shut. 

“Mr. Hoffman would be disappointed.” He starts as he leaves his seat.

He proceeds to sit on the sofa across the one I am on, and he slouches forward with intertwined fingers to continue.

“Did you drink before going on the mission?” He adds.

Shutting my eyes again, I leave them closed as the so-called Alpha’s words play in my ears again.

“You should never have taken the offer.” 

Who does he think he is? Because he cheated death… 

“Would you like a drink?” He offers and I open my eyes.

“We can start from there.” I finally responded.

Standing, I walk over to the rack containing his liquors. I take a bottle and two shot glasses. 

“You know, everyone knows, that even when I am drunk, I never fail.” I tell him as I wipe the cups clean with a tissue.

Walking over to where he is, I hand him a glass and fill it up. Filling mine too, I drop the bottle on the table. 

“Have you been distracted by some male?” He asks as I swirl the liquor in my glass.

Boys?

We never had the ‘boys’ conversation. When I was younger, I overheard my classmates talking about how their parents always told them they should not have boyfriends or go close to them because all they ever do is cause distractions or break hearts. 

I did not need such advice. Boys made sure to paint an image in front of me and my father did not bother repainting that image. The image of never being able to stick to one woman. While I was in eighth grade, I had seen my crush who had a girlfriend kiss another girl who was a friend to his girlfriend. And… you are right, judging guys by that one scene is not fair—but what about a repetition of the same scene? Girls, ladies, and women talk about the cheating guys constantly.

There is no way the contrasting gender would flip my heart and make my legs wobble, or wake up some cliché butterfly from the novels. 

Do I get fuc.ked? The answer is yes, and constantly. 

Both by life and the contrasting gender.

“Not funny, Dad.” I answer as I drown the content of my glass.

“Would you then do me a favor of not wasting time and telling me how a mission worth millions failed?” His voice has switched to the tone he uses in talking to his business partners and his so called agents.

“What about my neck?” I ask as I undo the lapel of my leather jacket.

I take it off completely to reveal the plaster on either side of my neck.

“What happened?” I am getting tired of these interview questions already.

“I had a pretty long day, and that one glass has added to the shots I took today. I feel drunk already.” I answer, as I stand.

“Sadie, what happened to your neck?” Is that care in his voice?

He is worried about me now? 

“It is nothing. Let us just say I am being dramatic as usual. Sleep well, Dad or if your fling is still around I can call her for you. I seemed to have disrupted the pre-coitus.” I respond as I get close to the door.

The attention I drew to my neck was not necessary, I got the reaction I needed to see. It has been long since someone had at least a little face of worry about me.

“Oh! And father, I noticed some of your pets around my cabin. Tell them to get off my back or I will forget they are one of us. I never got the protection when I needed it.” I add and walk out.

My head is killing me. I could crash in my room here, but I would rather drive than stay here. 

“You know your father loves and cares about you, right?” His sister tells me as I descend the stairs.

“The exact same way he cares for all his agents. We make him cool cash. I make him the coolest.” I respond and she grabs my wrist.

“You remember what day it is today, right? Was that the reason the mission failed?” She questions.

How could I ever forget the one most painful day of every year?

But, no. Today is even more of a reason why I should never have failed a mission. The rage boosts me, but that son of an animal…

“Fine. I will sleep in my room.” I respond and jerk my hand away from her light grip.

Fu.ck I said I was not going to cry today, so why in hell are my eyes burning from the tears in them? Why are they blurring my vision? I am on the path of this revenge… the tears would not bring her back, my actions would not either but at least they will all pay for it.

Unlocking my door, I walk in and turn to look at my reflection in the mirror. I move my hands over the plasters on my neck, and sigh as I proceed to take them off.  Running over to the switch, I flip it on and run towards the mirror just to be sure. 

The wounds from the nails he dug into the skin of my neck have disappeared, as well as the necklace that I never want to lose. 

“No.” I murmur as the tears I have been controlling slips down my face.

I will kill that arse, I promise…