A Search for Balance

Chapter 31 - Revenge

Warning: Misogynistic language, manipulative behaviour, narcissistic rage

By the time he arrived at the manor, Matthew was seething. Nothing in his day had gone to his satisfaction, but getting ridiculed in front of everyone by someone like Erika Rath had been the straw to break the Thestral's back.

He had left the Quidditch League's Vernal Ball with his head held high, but on the inside, Matthew was still spitting with rage. The fury pulsing through him made it impossible for him to sit still, so he paced the length of his study, pouring himself one glass of Firewhiskey after the other.

Who did this insignificant excuse of a woman think she was? She was nothing, no one, a simple scout. Nobody outside the business even knew her name, if even that. She was a failed Quidditch player who had been exiled not to the second row but to the very end of the food chain altogether, with nothing to show for herself than a few matches and the odd mediocre transfer deal under her belt.

Matthew considered what he knew about Erika Rath. According to Lizzie, she and Skye Parkin were a perpetual on-off thing, to the point of having become somewhat of a joke among the people who knew them. The sheer stupidity of them was beyond him; every club had their own regulations, but when it came to relationships between associates of different teams, the rules of the Quidditch League were unshakeable. They were getting themselves and everyone who knew about them into trouble, and no one seemed to bat an eye about it.

Until now.

Dwelling on the thought, Matthew wondered how his knowledge might be of use to him. Coming for Erika Rath wasn't much of a challenge, he had taken down bigger people than her, but Skye Parkin was a different matter. The Parkin dynasty was old and well-renowned; if he wanted to expose Skye and her pathetic affair to the public, he needed a solid base of proof for his allegations. Luckily, he knew exactly where to get it.

Content with the thought of his revenge, Matthew went to bed, but sleep refused to find him. His mind was spinning with possibilities of what he could do to show Rath that no one could challenge him without learning to regret it. Maybe Lizzie would have something interesting to tell him when she returned...

The thought made him pause. He had told Lizzie to come home as soon as she was done living out her little moment of defiance, but it was well after midnight and there was still no sign of her. As he waited, and it got later and later, Matthew's anger steadily grew. It shifted from Lizzie to Rath and back again until, by morning, he hadn't slept at all.

He was angry at himself for letting it come that far. He knew he shouldn't have permitted Lizzie to spend her time around people having such a bad influence on her. Knowing how much she had enjoyed this tiny, unimportant victory over him, he wished he had dragged her from Vernal Ball, but she never would've come without making a scene first. The only thing worse than leaving her behind would have been people seeing how out of control Lizzie had become.

Her changing the dress he had chosen for her at the last minute had only been the tip of the iceberg; her petulance had begun much earlier, Matthew had only been too blind to see it. She did everything she could to spite him these days, but what had he expected? The version of Lizzie he was dealing with now was stubborn, unruly, and impossible to keep in line. She wasn't anything like the woman he had fallen in love with, the one he thought would share his life and build his family with him.

The longer he thought about it, the more it infuriated him. Lizzie had never cared for anything he had done for her, what his family had done for her. They had given her possibilities beyond imagination, a place in society, more money and resources than she could ever hope to spend, and she was throwing all of it away for nothing. Lizzie should have been the investment of his lifetime, but all the care and love he had poured into her - all of it - had failed.

When Matthew stepped outside the main entrance of McRae Manor, the sun was up, glistening on the puddles in the gravelled driveway. The tiny white blossoms of the sloe hedges were just opening their petals, but he had no eye for them. He stood in front of the grand portal, breathing in the air smelling of last night's rain and trying to regain his composure.

It was no good to let Lizzie see how much her staying away affected him. She had been upset and angry when they had parted ways, and it would be better to meet her calmly, now that she'd had enough time to realise that she was in the wrong. And in the unlikely case that she hadn't... Well, Matthew knew what to tell her to make her reach the right conclusions on her own.

Apparating to the front door of Lizzie's and Skye's cottage, Matthew found it to be locked. Taking out the spare key from underneath a tacky, badger-shaped flower pot, he unlocked it and stepped into the house into a mess of laundry, Quidditch gear and used glasses and dishes. Stepping over some discarded heels and clothes by the foot of the stairs, he headed for Lizzie's room. He didn't bother with knocking before he opened the door and walked inside, but it didn't matter either way, because the room was empty.

Taken aback by not finding Lizzie in her bed, Matthew sat down at her desk. He automatically reached for the pile of letters stacked messily in one corner; Skye must have dumped all of Lizzie's post that hadn't been sent to the manor in here without bothering to tell her. When he didn't find anything of interest, he leaned back in the chair, stared at the framed poster above the bed, and waited.

After having sat in Lizzie's abandoned room for the better part of an hour, Matthew's patience had come to an end. With every passing minute, his frustration had turned into a restless sort of anger, and now, he finally had enough. Lizzie wasn't here, and it didn't look like she had been in the first place. Fury rose in his chest, constricting his throat until he felt like he couldn't breathe anymore.

It was no use lying to himself. He knew where Lizzie had gone.

He rose to his feet with an abrupt motion that nearly sent the chair toppling over backwards. Pressing the balls of his hands against his eyes, he took some deep breaths, exhaling them again with force. He felt like screaming.

With a few quick steps he was by the door, ready to storm out of the house and catch the deceiving little bitch and her worthless lover red-handed, but then, his mind suddenly cleared. He paused, standing there with a thumping heart and his hand around the doorknob. Slowly, he let go of it.

If she made him suffer like this, maybe he should pay her back in kind. Teach her a lesson. His thoughts racing inside his head, a plan began to form. It was all clear, but he needed to be careful. He couldn't act rashly now.

He slowly sat down on Lizzie's bed, astounded at how easy his decision suddenly felt. He was done with Lizzie's insolence, done with all her acting up. He had given her more than one fair chance to prove she was still worth his time, and she had blown them all.

If she refused to play by his rules, she would have to face the consequences. He would take everyone and everything she had from her, close every door she could turn to until there was no one left but him. And then he would deliver his final blow.

She had it coming, Matthew told herself as he got up and ready to leave, feeling an almost eerie clarity descend on him. He had told her that he would do it, back when she had tried to dump him. He had warned her, and she hadn't listened.

It was time she learned that Matthew McRae didn't make empty promises.