The McKay Boys

36| alamort•

"His Bonnie on the side, Bonnie on the side. Makes me a sad, sad girl."

Chapter Theme Song: 'Sad Girl' by Lana Del Rey.

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Four Hours Earlier

Giselle

How far would one go for the man they love? I didn't know about anyone else, but I knew I'd walk the mile, climb the mountains, do whatever it took to be with Khalil. My love for him started when I grew my first buds but wasn't in need of a bra since they weren't big enough. Or maybe it was way before then. Before Amelia came into the picture and took the adoration that had rightfully belonged to me. It didn't matter what he and his brothers did to Jacob Whitaker. It didn't matter that they mercilessly murdered a young boy in the forest on that cold night. All that mattered was how I felt about him.

It was written in my bloodline one would say, for my mother had torn off the heads of other women to be with my father. I grew to understand why she had to do it. The world is cruel and cold, and you can't have something good without fighting for it. It is the food chain, the fittest of the fittest, and Amelia wasn't fit enough to go up against me.

She surely could not match up to a woman who has authentic richness flowing in her veins. If Mr. McKay should disown her tomorrow, she'd be back to the gutters where she truly belonged. And her three brothers, who were direly obsessed with her, wouldn't be able to do anything about it.

If I couldn't have Khalil, then I'd be sure to take him down with me. A woman's scorn is more fearful than the law I'd use if he continued to test me. If they all continued to test me.

I'd tell the world what they did to Jacob.

Cutlery clinked against each other, the smell of baked bread and cheese and fried bacon wafting through the otherwise quiet dining room. My hands shook with the plan I had stashed away in my head, just waiting for the right time for execution. I had to be careful. Accusing someone of rape was a serious offense.

"The tea is a bit sweet..." My father complained with half of his face twisted in displeasure, the skinny handle of the floral teacup pinched between his two fingers.

My mother sighed and scoped around the room as though searching for our head maid, her dark hair falling over her shoulder briskly as her brows knitted together. "Where is she? She needs to do her job properly, for God's sake..."

"It's alright. Let her be; it isn't so bad..."

Her shoulders slumped as she gave my father an incredulous look. One that signified that she was once again thinking he was intimately involved with our maid. "You need to stop always defending her, Edmond. If she keeps this up, I'm going to fire her myself..."

"Georgia." He held up a hand and shut his eyes. "It's alright..."

I cleared my throat and sat upright in my seat, playing with the silver fork in my hand. I glanced between the both of them, then down at my breakfast. Now was the time, before they started arguing. My mother would make it slip that my father had romantic feelings for our maid, then my father would yell at her not to be ludicrous, and then when he left the table, she would vow to poison the woman with the deadliest of potions.

"Uh...I-I have something to say..." The words were out before I could second-think.

They stopped what they were doing immediately and gave me their undivided attention. I was not treated badly by my parents, in case one would want to point to my home environment as the main reason I had fixated myself on Khalil. It was none of that. I grew up sheltered, maybe not with as much freedom as I would have liked, but they took good care of me. I got anything I wanted, as long as it wouldn't cause me danger.