Chapter 02: A Drunk And A Fire

~Fiona~

The drive back home was a chaotic mess of

thoughts.

And my fucking jaw ached, I hadn't realized just how massive that stranger was while it was happening, mostly because my head had been so damn fixated on Rico.

And honestly, it was taking every single ounce of pride I had left to make the turn toward the palace.

Maybe if I pleaded with him, he would take me back.

Maybe that bitch Natasha had really poisoned his mind, feeding him lies to turn his head.

I knew he loved me. And I loved him, too.

I didn't think I could survive being apart from him… especially because I needed him.

I had given him my whole life, and without him, no one else would ever want me.

It was only my closeness with Rico that kept people from treating my family like complete garbage.

Because as they say, a bad reputation sticks.

My great grandparents were rogue wolves who tried to overthrow the previous Alphas.

They failed.

They, along with the rest of the low-rank rogue families, were captured and subjected to slavery until our entire bloodline wiped out.

Which would never be possible, because low-rank pups were born into the dirt every single day. If you carried that blood, your future was already written: a maid, a mistress, or a royal servant.

My mom’s role fell under royal nanny.

We were in charge of taking care of Rico’s cousin’s twin children.

But Mom had been sick for three years, and I’d had to forfeit my college admission just to take over her duties.

The only silver lining was that it kept me close to Rico… the only man I had ever loved.

And right now, I had no idea how to fix things between us.

God. Soon, the news of our breakup would spread through the pack, and my family would be right back to being ridiculed like the rest of the slave clan.

I pushed open our rotting wooden door. The sharp stench of cheap alcohol and burning wood hit my nostrils instantly.

My eyes widened at the sight in front of me.

"Jesus. Dad! What the hell are you doing to my paintings?!" I yelled, lunging forward to grab the canvas in his hands.

"Get off me, you good-for-nothing!" he spat, shoving me back. "I told you those gang members would come for me if I didn't bring the money by seven. Look at the time. Huh?”

I blinked.. the flames burning my eyes.

“It's goddamn midnight, Fiona! Look at the bruises all over your father!" He stumbled, struggling to wrench the painting out of my grip.

"Let go of my paintings! Why the hell are you taking your frustration out on them?" My voice shook, and I didn't even realize the tears were dropping until they hit my lips.

"I didn't ask you to gamble away the last stack of cash I gave you!"

He was burning them.

The only things that made me feel less shitty for waking up every single day.

When I had a brush in my hand, I had something real. I could paint until my fingers gave out, completely free from the judgment of the pack, free from thinking about what I had to offer in return for a scrap of respect.

“You… know how much they mean to me.” I sobbed, feeling defeated.

This wasn't the first time he was doing this. Whenever I refused to give him money after he sucked me dry, he threw a fit.

"You see? This is exactly why I need to get rid of these things," he growled, overpowering me with drunken strength. "You only care about these useless boards, don't you?"

With a brutal twist, he yanked the canvas away and tossed it into the roaring fire he had built right in front of the porch.

Then he reached for another.

"No! No, stop it!" I wailed, the sound tearing from my throat.

"I won't! Since you've decided to cause me pain, I'll do the same to you!"

"Fine! Stop it!" I lunged for him right as he raised the next one.

My chest squeezed into a tight, agonizing knot. I had shown that exact painting to Mom in the hospital last week.

It was a painting of what I imagined my wolf to look like, running free alongside hers and Ivy’s, without Dad in it.

Mom had cried when she saw it. She said it was her favorite.

I knew what she meant.

"How much do they want?!" I yelled, my voice cracking.

He paused, his bloodshot eyes locking onto mine through the smoke. "Ju... just forty thousand."

“Jesus. Where the fuck was I supposed to get that kind of money on top of Ivy's fees?”

"Fine. How much do you have?” he paused.

“No. How much is left from what I gave you? I'll talk to them."

He paused, clearing his throat nervously. "Just... hand me five thousand. Give them the twenty. Hmm?"

"No," I said, my voice hardening through the tears. "It's either we do it my way or you get nothing."

He rolled his eyes, sneering at me. "Fine. You greedy ass. Just like your mother."

"At least she knows she has kids," I scowled, the bitterness burning my tongue.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing. Just fucking put out that fire. I've got work at the palace tomorrow," I said, walking past him into the dark house.

God.

I pushed back the rest of the tears… I needed to be strong for Ivy and Mom.