4

Chapter Four: Breaking Loose.

Sofia POV.

 

I look at Tristain with so much regret.

 

Why did I let him get this close?.

 

Why did I allow him so much access?.

 

How was I supposed to know he was nothing but a damn simp, a nonchalant desperate fool, who would do anything to humiliate the woman he spread her legs apart for, whispering sweet loving in the most suitable way!.

 

How could I have known?.

 

“Did you just slap me?" Tristain was holding his cheek still in denial. I had plastered his face with my five fingers.

 

“I will do it again and again." I crawled out, panting heavily.

 

“You dare to raise your hand against me? ”.

 

“Have you lost your sense of reason?" Tristain rubbed the spot I had slapped him, and his face turned red.

 

My palm was still burning, but for the first time in a long while I felt satisfied. I felt a renewed hope inside of me, not like the slap would clear the mess he had created, but it made me feel better.

 

Behind him, his father stood like an agile soldier.

 

He didn't try to stop me from leasing hard; better still, his look showed satisfaction.

 

He watched me silently.

 

He watched like a proud father whose heart felt at peace that his daughter finally faced her fear.

 

I hissed.

 

Sitting on the soft couch, crossing my legs, my eyes fixed on a tall frame that stood alone at the top right corner.

 

It was a family frame.

 

A huge one.

 

About six feet tall and twice as wide for a normal frame.

 

A woman dressed in a ball gown and two men dressed in suits, the eyes piercing through like the frame were alive.

 

There was a striking resemblance between the woman and the boy; she was probably his mother, I rolled my eyes. If only she knew, she failed in raising him.

 

“Father," Tristain called out, and I shifted my gaze away from the frame back to them.

 

“She gave her consent to it; she asked me to do it." Tristain lied, his left eye already swollen and red; I had hit him in the right spot.

 

"Coward, that's who you are." I snapped.

 

“You’re the manipulative one here." Tristain muttered in anger.

 

“I asked you? ”. I asked again, perplexed he was lying to my face. What sort of demon have I been exchanging fluid with?.

 

"Prostitute." Tristain cursed under his breath.

 

Pro what?.

 

I could swear I didn't hear him right, but then his voice echoed in my head.

 

How did I fall for a liar and a gaslighter?.

 

My stomach twisted in disgust.

 

My lungs were so tight I could barely breathe.

 

I stood up from the couch slowly, walking towards him, one step at a time, swallowing the tears that threatened to pour.

 

“What did you call me? ”. I asked quietly.

 

He looked down on me, his lips parted, a smoke escaped his lips, and he kicked his tongue seductively, the same way he does that made me spread my legs wide open on the desk in his room, allowing him to pound me for hours, crying under his control while whispering the words, "Right there, baby, right there!" ”.

 

I moved closer.

 

I needed him to repeat his words.

 

His lips already swollen, the slap had made him bite his lower lip.

 

“Repeat yourself one last time." I put my head close to his mouth, staring at the marble floor; I wanted to hear the words.

 

Tristain was definitely going to say it; his ego and pride would never let him back down, and even if he wanted to, it wouldn't be to a woman he had fucked in the most shameless way possible. I had gone on my knees several times, sucking on his dick while he shoved my head deep, whispering at intervals.

 

"Prostitute."

 

"Slut."

 

“Suck my lollipop."

 

“Suck it, you bitch."

 

“Choke on it."

 

“You wanted it as much as I wanted it. Why walk in here with my father, acting like you didn't enjoy sucking on my dick?" Tristain fired, his eyes blazing hot.

 

"Triss." His father yelled.

 

“No, Dad, let me talk some sense into her." He snapped.

 

"Tristain, I trusted you." I held him by his collar, sobbing.

 

“Oh please." He tried to knock my hands off, but my grip was firm.

 

"Tristain, you let my nude video out there, blurring your face." I hit his chest repeatedly.

 

“Am I supposed to show my face in it? ”.

 

He pushed me away with force, and his father grabbed me before I could hit my head against the acrylic table.

 

His words cut through me.

 

I stayed in his father's arms, wailing profusely.

 

The old man pulled me in a warm embrace like he knew where the shoe hurt the most.

 

“Calm down." He rubbed on my back; Trustain paid little or no attention to me, and he and his father exchanged eye contact.

 

"Dad, she doesn't need all these; I'm not the only one she's spreading her damn legs wide for," Tristain cursed.

 

"Tristain." I yelled in shock.

 

“Enough of your nonsense! “. His father warned.

 

“She isn't worth..."

 

“I said enough! ”.

 

“You aren't the only one I'm spreading those legs wide for." I laughed, cleaning the tears off my face with my soaked clothes, the jacket already zipped down.

 

My phone buzzed again, another message, another person commenting on my nude videos, another group getting the notification of my whole body on display like I was some damn goods in an auction.

 

“Tell him what you did in the dormitory," I said.

 

Tristin's eyes turned cold.

 

He looked at me, his eyeballs threatening to fall out.

 

“Are you threatening me? ”.

 

I smiled at him, then at his father, then back at him.

 

“Tell your father what you did, or I will help you," I threatened, still feeling the warmth of the old man against my body, his hand resting on my waist.

 

I didn't care anymore.

 

I had nothing else to lose.

 

I was damn ready to break the table.

 

"Sofia."

 

“Tell him why you thought the only way to raise money to cover your shifty deals was to put my nude up on the school site to cover your damn secret."

 

“What secret? ”. The old man asked.

 

Silence.

 

The atmosphere is heavy.

 

Tristain looked at me in denial.

 

He never saw it coming.