How to Steal a Heart

~ Chapter 55 ~

My feet throbbed as I stood in front of the large home. I'm sure he could smell my demolished pride from where I stood.

When I left home, I had absolutely no intention of going back. I thought physically leaving would cut all my ties from my father. However, I'm no longer ignorant. I will never be able to shake this man. He'll control me in some way forever.

I swallow the sliver of pride I had left and walked onward to the front door. Before I could even make it up all the stairs, the door opens. One of my father's employees nods at me as I pass through.

He's expecting me - of course

The heat of anger has long left me. Heartbreak starting to settle deep within my stomach. I could feel the sadness in my eyes; begging to fall down my cheek. Nonetheless, I won't let it out now.

I make my way to my father's office knowingly. I don't even bother knocking, just walking straight in. The man sits chillingly behind the large desk. He's expressionless as he peers up at me. He motions for me to sit.

"Victoria," He starts in a way that's all too familiar.

"Father,"

"Bold of you to come back after running away with some boy,"

"I didn't run away with him, Father. I stayed at his home,"

He shifts in his seat, bringing his elbows to rest on the desk. His hands lock into each other as his once emotionless face transitions.

"Oh, I know where you stayed," He insisted, "And I know where you worked. When you went to school,"

"If you knew all of this then, why didn't you come get me?"

"Because I knew you'd be back," He takes a sip out of his glass. "Besides, I had to take care of those pictures you posted,"

"Oh yeah? How'd you do that?"

"I kept it vague and kind,"

"How sweet of you," I retort sarcastically.

"I didn't do it for you. Victoria, you've been blessed with the privilege of doing things without having to worry about how the people around you are affected,"

"I wonder where I got that from?"

His eyes shoot to mine as his lips tighten. "Listen here, Child. You better watch your mouth. That hoyden mouth of yours is what got you smacked in the first place,"

"So then what am I supposed to do when you hit me? Just take it?" I exasperate.

"Yes," He deadpans, "You don't have a choice,"

I kept quiet for a moment, breathing deeply. I'm not in the wrong, I know I'm not. However, it's hard to stay strong when everyone around you seems to be on a different side.

"You went and saw your mother," He states after my moment of silence. I look at him.

"Doesn't look like she's going to be getting out of there anytime soon, huh?"

I look at him, frowning. I'm just trying to figure out where he wants this conversation to go. I mean, I could ask about how he knows I went, but I'm pretty sure I can guess.

"Your favorite parent is a whoring alcoholic and the other one beats you," He pulls his fists to his lips. "Poor Victoria, what is it that you're supposed to do?"

I don't say anything. I'm not sure that patronizing me is very necessary, but again, what did I expect of him?

"Except, poor is something you are not. Something Miss Victoria Beckette doesn't tell everyone; that she's had everything she could've possibly dreamed about since birth. You've had Christmases better than the most indigent child could even dream of,"

"Tell me, my child, what would your friends think of that?"

"You let me in your home to belittle me?" I break my silence, not answering his question.

"I'm sorry you thought you could come back home and have me welcome you with open arms,"

"I didn't,"

"In order for you to have a home, there are a few things you're going to need to clear up with the media," He ignores me.

"I want my own apartment," I blurt out.

I'm well aware that it's not a very good look to say that after him telling me how much of a spoiled brat I am. Nonetheless, that topic is why I walked here in the first place. I could not bear to live in the same home as my father. I have no leg to stand on, no leverage, I know. Even so, what could I lose by asking? 

I wouldn't live with him, never again. Though I'll do whatever he wants me to do if he'll pay the down payment of an apartment. It kills me to ask; knowing that the whole reason I want an apartment is to get away from him. Him paying for it would be the exact opposite of what I want.

His eyebrows jump at the request.

"I'll clear the things up. I'll say the photos were fake or that they were self-inflicted. I'm asking for a down payment. I'll pay for the rest, get a roommate and everything,"

"Why would I do that?"

"Theoretically you have no reason to agree. In fact, you very much don't have to,"

He takes a sip again. "You are a pain in my ass every moment you breathe. Regardless, of what you believe, I don't want you living here either,"

I inhale sharply, that was high key kinda rude.

He stares at me, face twisted in discontent.

"I'll have your script ready by tomorrow morning,"

"Script?"

He stands, taking his glass up with him. "You can have your apartment, Victoria, but as soon as you start fucking up you'll be back here faster than you can take one of little your pictures,"

"I understand."

He pauses, standing next to my chair. Looming over me with his stoned expression. His breath smelled of his usual whiskey scent. It sent me into a spiraling feeling of deja vu.

"No daughter of mine will act a fool like that in public," He seethes, "If you think you're going to have it easy, you are wrong. You will do as I say when I say it. If you think you had it hard before you don't know what hard is,"

"I understand."

I stay seated as he seethes his way out of the office. I don't bother asking any more questions. I felt the relief, but my pride still weighed on top of me. It's like when a dog runs away, then comes back home just to be chained to a tree in the yard.

Maybe I am selfish, but perhaps that's the way to live. It seems as if the people that care about nothing but themselves seem to be the happiest. Obviously, I'm doing something wrong.

I envy the people that feel no remorse, that feel no guilt. For they're the ones that probably feel no heartache as well. I bet they've never felt the sinking in my chest as I do now.

"Victoria,"

I turn to him.

"I don't want you to see that heathen of a boy while you're living in my apartment, do you understand me? No exceptions,"

"That won't be a problem."