4
1092 Words
ROMY
My cheek burned where Mom had struck me. I pressed the back of my palm to it, but the sting wasn’t just from the slap; it was from the betrayal. Mom had never hit me before. Now she had, because of him.
“You didn’t have to do that.” My hand fell from my face.
“Romy, I—” she stood, like she might apologize, but it was too late.
I put my hand out to stop her. “Don’t bother. You’ve chosen a side. It isn’t mine.”
She breathed out hard and sat back down. “The day you realize that everything I have done is for you, Romy, will be the happiest day of my life. That will be the day you grow.”
I sniffed and nodded. “Congratulations. A child isn’t to blame for a parent’s sin. So don’t worry, I won’t hate them. Can’t wait to be a big sister.”
Her mouth fell open, then closed. She stared at the floor like the tiles might answer her. The silence felt worse every second.
When I turned to the doorway, Nikolai was there, arms crossed. He had been there alone, not speaking, not moving, but his eyes told me he’d seen everything.
Heat rushed into my face, hotter than the slap. I hated that he’d seen it. Why couldn’t he be in his office, doing paperwork, somewhere else? Why did he have to be present when my mother humiliated me?
I brushed past him without a word. Not like he had anything to say. That night I skipped dinner. I didn’t want to see Mom or her baby’s father.
When Monday came, school felt less like a new start and more like an escape. Stepping back into a classroom after two years, I thought it might save me. I was wrong.
I got placed in Grade 12 even though I should have graduated. Of course, Svetlana and Sergei were in my class. Nikolai was strict with the pack but soft with his siblings. They did what they wanted and never finished school.
Across from my locker, Sergei stood with a group of tall boys chatting. One of them spun a basketball like it was nothing. Still, Sergei stood out; maybe it was the blonde hair like sunlight against the pack’s dark looks, or the one-sided dimple when he smirked.I didn’t know. All I knew was that looking at him made me have some unholy thoughts.
Our eyes met. Panic hit me. I looked away, fumbling with the locker, crossing my fingers, hoping he hadn’t noticed me.
What have I done? I wanted to scream.
I finally yanked the locker open–then the door slammed shut so hard it nearly caught my fingers.
“Hi there, little niece,” came Svetlana’s sharp voice. The hand that nearly crushed my finger belonged to her.
A nerve jumped in my eye. “Svetlana.”
She laughed and her friends followed like they were trained. “What? Unhappy to see me? Because I am not uncle Sergei?”
My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, an attempt to stop myself from yelling. “Move your hand.”
“Or what?” she shoved my head. The world blurred for a second. “You gonna hit me? A submissive omega threatening me? Poetic."
“Svetlana, please let me get my things,” I said, keeping my voice low even though she wanted an audience.
Then Sergei appeared from behind like he had been watching. “That’s enough Lana. it’s her first day. Give her a break.”
Svetlana threw her hands, all innocence. “I was just playing with our dear niece. No big deal.”
“Yeah, yeah. Go.” Sergei tried to shoo her, but she dragged him along, clinging and talking like she owned him. He glanced back and gave me a small, apologetic smile before they left.
For a second I let myself hope that it would end there. Then in the afternoon when I opened my locker, something cold and thick poured over me. A bucket had been balanced at the top. Pig’s blood soaked my hair and ran down my shirt.
Bystanders, or so I thought they were, dragged me to the principal’s office shouting that I’d done it to myself for pity. “Miss Ashford,”the principal began, his wrinkly face grim. “Our school won’t tolerate this behaviour.”
By the time I got home, I felt like I was about to explode. Svetlana had convinced the driver that I’d already left, forcing me to walk back to the mansion, blood dried in my hair. I burst through the door screaming her name until my throat tore.
“Svetlana!”
She padded down the stairs like a cat. “Have you gone mad? Why are screaming like a dog in heat?”
“You b***h!” I didn’t think. I grabbed a fistful of her hair before she reached the last step.
She screamed and fought back at first but then shockingly started begging. “Please Romy, please. I just want to be your friend.”
Her fake voice made my head spin, but I was too angry to care. I hauled her closer, fingers digging in her scalp. I raised my other hand to slap her when a strong grip closed around my wrist and stopped me.
“What are you doing?” Nikolai asked, quiet and flat behind me.
“You don’t know what Svetlana did to me—”
“I don’t care what Svetlana did,” he cut in, his voice calm but sharp. “Violence is never the answer. You should know that, Romy.”
He slowly let go of my hand, but before it could even fall away, I broke free from his grip.
“Don’t be so quick to take her side.” My throat tight with anger and tears I refused to let fall. “She’s not an angel.”
“I don’t care,” he repeated, firmer now. “We are family. We shouldn’t be fighting.”
Behind him, Lana sniggered, quiet but sharp enough to slice me open.
A laugh broke out of me, dry and bitter. What did I even expect? That Nikolai—the same man who let his siblings skip school, break rules, and do as they pleased—would actually stand by me?
“I f*****g hate you,” I spat, my voice breaking, before I turned and ran up the stairs.
- Writer
