Possessive - Logan's Unicorn - Kingswood Saga Book 7 - Completed

21. Megan

"There is nothing we can do, the trust has approved her summer residency at Kingswood, Darling,  I tried but without risking upsetting them there was nothing we can do" my father looked at me from across his desk as I rocked back on my heels.

"You promised me, you would sort it out" I hissed at him and he looked away, unable to say anything further.

"I'm going home, I can't stay here knowing that she is there... and you have done nothing to help me" I turned on my heel and left. Slamming the door behind me I stalk back to my room, grabbing my bag and car keys, if I stay here I will end up screaming.

How dare the trust say she can do the residency and why would Daddy just allow it, he had promised me he would sought it and he didn't.

My hatred for Tallulah grew, she had been a pain as a child, a mistake by my parents, taking the attention away from me, till she got that scar, then our parents came back to me.  And when our grandmother moved in she took over Tallulah's care and made sure she her kept out of our way. 

When Grandmother died, it had been a shock to Daddy that she had left everything in a trust until Tallulah turned 21, he had tried to get it overturned but it had been made clear, until she was 21 he was not in control, I know he had tried but he would not risk losing everything he thought he was due.  I wasn't too bothered, I knew the money would come to me eventually and I didn't live at home any longer so I could avoid her most of the time but now, now she had taken my prize from me and I really wanted to see her pay.

Turning the radio on, I headed back towards London, flicking the radio on to distract me but nothing worked, as I drove I stewed, my anger building, at the way Logan had treated me at his office, at the pity I was getting from my so called friends, at my parents failing me, even at grandmother protecting her from the grave.  Everything was always about her, as ever, that scarred brat got everything, yes a number of my colleagues had been impressed she was my sister and they constantly praised her work but it was false, her silly sculptures where just that silly.

Reaching home, I opened a bottle of wine and poured myself a generous glass, my mind plotting at ways to get back at her, and the more through the bottle I got the more I could see the way forward, and as I drank the last mouthful, I knew what I had to do, I would deal with her myself, that would be the only way I could be happy...