How to Climb the Chain

| two |

After a few calls, notably notifying the residential life department for Harvard of my arrival and requesting a list of masters courses to choose from, I leaned against the worn seat of the taxi with a sigh. I felt fairly accomplished at first, but as the hours began to wear, I started to regret my decision. Perhaps it would have been better if I would have just taken the heat from him.. Now I didn't know what he would do. Maybe he wouldn't care or be bothered, or maybe he was currently removing me from his will and cutting off my general funds.

Uncertainty.

I covered my face with my right hand, leaning my elbow against the door - I sighed again.

Even so, I couldn't bring myself to forgive him. There was so much to resent him for, after all.

Spite.

I had known for a long time that he didn't love me. As much as I was usually in denial, I knew at least that much. It was an easy conclusion.

So, as the time ticked away, that familiar emptiness returned. And when the car came to a halt, I tipped the uber for the long drive and exited the vehicle.

I was immediately met with an usher. But I was shocked that it was the residential chair himself.

"Ms. Ranton. Your father is waiting in the residential lounge, please follow me this way." The man looked nervous, as if he had been through a whirl of stress because of that fact.

My eyes widened and my heart nearly stopped in my chest. I stumbled, my mind drawing a blank. There was no way...

Fear.

Dread.

My expression had to mirror my immediate anxiety. My blood ran cold.

Sure enough, there Regulus Ranton sat. His posture rigid as he brought a glass of brandy to his lips, his tumulus glare cutting.

Gracefully, he stood. "Leave us," he gestured towards the Res Head, not taking his eyes off of me as he did so.

The man nodded, quickly fleeing and closing the lounge doors behind him.

Fright.

I stood at the far edge of the room, near the doors. Yet the weight of his stare was so imposing, he could've been right on top of me.

It was me who broke the silence. "... you booked a flight?"

Father's gaze narrowed, "You must think yourself incredibly clever." His gait was smooth and quick as he stood, and descended upon me. I backed into the corner, as he practically caged me in.

"Tell me," he spoke lightly, yet his tone remained dangerous, "when did you memorize the layout of my building?"

My eyes flicked about rapidly, landing on a nearby vase - the artful strokes in the grape vines strangling the porcelain almost ominously. "I did it after what happened last time."

His palm wrapped around my left bicep, the grip anything but gentle, "Oh, and you believed it would make things better for you?"

I winced, leaning as far away from him as possible, "No, I just-"

"You just?" He got in my face, his expression practically seething.

"Father, it hurts," tears came into my eyes, as I finally looked at him.

The slap was crisp. "It should after all the humiliations you've caused me today. Did you think I would let you just get away with it? Send your regards?" Another slap to the opposing cheek. My free hand lifted to cradle my face. 

His eyes narrowed at me as his expression became like a baffled sneer.

Then, his hand grabbed hold of my jaw, "Well, you've gotten what you wanted. I'm here, Illeana."

Pain.

I could see every angry line in his face at this proximity, "Please, Father. Don't do this."

"Do you know how many meetings I had to cancel to come here?"

"No. I'm sorry," the tears crested out from my eyes.

"You're sorry?" His jaw clenched as he glared down at me, "No. You're not, but you're going to be."

My eyes widened, "W-what do you mean?"

"You'll see, soon." Once again his eyes narrowed, his own eyes glossing as he looked at me. His lips flattened and his hand harshly dropped from my face as he tore himself away from me and moved back towards the ornate couch. "Sit."

As I listened, I held my face again. Picking up his scotch, he spoke, "You know, you look so much like your mother that sometimes I can't stand the sight of you. It's sickening."

I sniffled at that and my lips parted as I went to respond, but he continued anyway.

"Your mother wasn't such an embarrassment." Sipping on the alcohol, his posture was straight as he stared off at the wall past me. "I've decided to put your studies on hold."

At that, I jolted forward in my seat, "What? Why-"

"Because it's what I have decided." He said it so resolutely that I couldn't even argue.

"You have disgraced me, Illeana." He said this with disdain. But then he made an odd subject change, one that made my blood freeze and stomach lift into my throat. "But there is good news. Some that I planned to share with you in my office, before you so ignorantly fled.

"Leona is pregnant."

My jaw dropped and he continued, his gaze lingering on his glass. "It's a boy."

Betrayal.

A scorned feeling entered my being, my tone becoming ugly for the first time, "And? What are you implying, Father?"

"You are no longer needed. You will return to New York City, and you will do so quietly." He challenged my tone, as if ending any further discussion. But I was not having it. Not this time.

"After everything I have done? After all my effort?" I forgot my aching face and stood, rage filling me. "I have wasted much of my life just for your approval - just to excel in everything - just to be your perfect heir."

He sat there silently, as if not even acknowledging my outburst.

Wrath.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Taking my bag from my shoulder, I chucked it at him. "HOW DARE YOU."

Not expecting the bag, it knocked into him and caused him to spill the remainder of his drink on his pristinely, steam-pressed suit.

My handed shifted under the coffee table and I flung it towards him. He stepped away - prepared this time - and it just missed him. His expression quickly becoming murderous.

Hysteric.

Resentment.

"I pity Mother. Her love was wasted on a despicable bastard like you." Turning the table, he went to grab me, but I dodged his hand. "Just as my time was wasted on gaining your approval all my life. I'm not sure what kind of son you expect out of that harpy, but I'm sure he will be just as worthless as you."

With that, I turned towards the double doors from whence I came. Surprisingly, he let me go, muttering something under his breath. Something that sounded particularly profane, and then he spoke up as I was nearly out of the doors.

"There is a car waiting outside to take you back to New York. Use it."

I didn't look back.

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