Chapter 153: 153 - about me
153
~Belinda’s POV
I stormed into my room, my heels hitting the marble floor so hard that the sound echoed across the walls. My chest was burning, my head buzzing with anger I could not contain.
"How dare she?" I shouted, slamming the door so hard it rattled on its hinges. "How dare that filthy wench Lisa carry my Alphas’ child?"
I grabbed the nearest vase, an expensive one with golden patterns, and smashed it against the floor. The sharp crash gave me a little satisfaction, but not nearly enough. My heart still felt like it was on fire.
"She thinks she’s better than me?" I yelled at the empty room. "She thinks she can crawl into their bed and get pregnant? No, no, no!"
I swept all the perfume bottles off my vanity with one arm. They shattered, spilling rich scents into the air, jasmine, rose, sandalwood, mixing into something too strong, choking me. I didn’t care. I wanted the mess.
I kicked over a stool, tore the silk sheets off my bed, and threw them across the room. My chest was heaving, my throat raw from screaming.
"Lisa!" I spat her name like poison. "That useless little pest. She thinks she’s won because she carries their child. She has no idea what I can do. None!"
I spun toward the door and yelled, my voice cutting through the halls like a whip.
"Richard!"
The sound of my scream bounced back at me from the cold stone walls. Nothing. No answer. My chest rose and fell with fury. How dare he keep me waiting when I was already boiling with rage?
"Richard!" I screamed again, my voice shaking with venom. "Where the hell are you, you useless bastard?"
At last, the door creaked open. He stumbled in, his steps hurried but clumsy, like a child caught sneaking in late. His head was already bowed, shoulders slouched, as if he thought shrinking himself would protect him from the storm in my eyes.
"You respond this late to me?" I spat, striding across the room so quickly he flinched. My nails dug into my palms as I balled my fists, fury radiating off me in waves.
"I...I’m sorry, my Lady," he stammered, eyes glued to the floor, his whole body trembling.
"Sorry?" I echoed with a scornful laugh that carried no humor. My hand flew across his face before he could breathe another word. The slap cracked through the air. His head jerked violently to the side, and I saw the red mark bloom instantly on his cheek.
"You dare make me wait like some common woman?" I hissed, my voice dripping with venom. "You worthless dog!"
He winced, swallowing hard. "I didn’t mean..."
"Shut up!" I cut him off, shoving him back with both hands, my nails scraping his tunic. My chest heaved as I loomed over him. "Do you think your excuses mean anything to me? You think your pathetic apologies can soothe this rage? You’re nothing, Richard. Nothing but a tool I use when it pleases me, and discard when I’m bored."
"You belong to me," I said, my tone like steel. "You breathe because I allow it. You move because I command it. Don’t you ever..." I jabbed a finger into his chest hard enough to make him stumble... "ever make me wait again."
"You should be at my call the moment I open my mouth, do you understand?"
"Yes, my Lady," he muttered.
I slapped him again, just because I could. "Say it louder. I don’t like your weak little voice."
"Yes, my Lady!" he said quickly this time, his cheek already red.
I smiled coldly. "Good boy. Now listen carefully."
He nodded.
"I need you to have the horse and palanquin ready for me in the next few minutes. I will be leaving for my father’s house immediately." My voice was sharp and cold, the kind of tone that made even the strongest guards step back.
Richard’s eyes widened, and for a brief moment, I saw hesitation flicker across his face. His lips parted like he wanted to argue, but then he caught himself. Still, he dared to whisper, "Now, my Lady? It’s too early..."
The audacity. The sound of his doubt pierced me like an insult. My hand rose before he could finish, and he instantly flinched, cowering like the coward he was.
"Do not question me!" I snapped, my voice echoing against the walls. I stepped closer, glaring so hard I thought my eyes would burn straight through him. "If I say now, it means now. Are you deaf, or are you simply stupid?"
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. "No, my Lady," he said quickly, his voice trembling with fear. "I’ll prepare it right away." He bowed his head so low it almost brushed his knees, trying to hide from my rage.
I tilted my chin high, savoring the power I held over him, even though it was tainted by the storm of anger swirling inside me. "Better," I spat, my lips curling. "Do not keep me waiting this time, Richard. If you dare waste even another breath of my time, I will make sure you regret ever crawling out of whatever filthy hole you came from."
"Yes, my Lady," he muttered, his voice so small it was almost swallowed by the silence. His hands were shaking, and he kept his eyes on the ground, not daring to look at me again.
"Good," I hissed, flicking my hand at him as though he were nothing more than dirt clinging to my shoes. "Now get out of my sight."
He bowed once more, deeper this time, and scurried backward like a beaten dog. His steps were clumsy, almost tripping over themselves in his hurry to obey. He didn’t even dare lift his head as he reached for the door.
I stood there, breathing heavily, my hands trembling with rage. The thought of Lisa carrying a child made my stomach turn. It wasn’t just anger, it was humiliation. How dare she? How dare the Alphas allow her?
"No," I whispered to myself, pacing across the ruined room. "This ends now. I will not let her stand above me. I will not let her win. If tRowan and others are too blind to handle her, then I will."
I stopped at the mirror, catching my reflection. My cheeks were flushed, my hair messy, my lips trembling with fury. But my eyes, they were sharp, glowing with something dangerous.
"It’s time," I told myself, staring straight into my own eyes. "Time to bring him. My rogue. My secret weapon. He’ll finish her off once and for all. And then everyone will know that Belinda cannot be touched."
A knock came at the door.
"My Lady," Richard’s voice called nervously. "The palanquin is ready."
"About time," I muttered. I grabbed a cloak, threw it over my shoulders, and marched out without even looking at the mess behind me.
Richard stood there, still bowing. He looked ridiculous, with his bruised cheek and lowered eyes.
"Let’s go," I said coldly, stepping past him.
He trailed behind me like the obedient little dog he was.
When we reached the courtyard, the palanquin waited, polished and shining, the horses restless in the cool night air. Richard held the curtain open for me, and I climbed inside without thanking him.
"Move," I snapped once I was settled.
The palanquin lurched forward, and we began the journey to my father’s house.