“Stop being a fifth-grade bully,” I snap back, my voice calm but icy. “I hope you die in a fiery crash tonight.”
His eyes narrow. “I fuckinghateyou,” he spits. Another sharp pinch. He lets go, grinning like he thinks he’s won. “One of these days, I’ll kill you in your bed while you sleep.”
I roll my eyes. “You couldn’t kill a fly without screwing it up.”
“Don’t push me,” he warns, stepping closer. “You think you’re untouchable because Dad likes you more? That won’t save you when it matters.”
I chuckle. “You really think hurting me would make a difference? Dad’s approval isn’t a zero-sum game, Vince. You’re still just… you. Pathetic.”
“You think you’re smarter than me, huh? Smarter than all of us? You’re just his golden toy!”
I shrug, tilting my head. “Golden toy? Maybe. But I’m not the one pinching and whining because you can’t stand someone else getting the spotlight. You want Dad to pick you as head of the family? Grow up, stop acting like a toddler, and maybe you’ll earn it.”
His jaw tightens. “Iwillget there. You think you’ve got it all because you are his damn favorite? I’ll take it from you. You’ll see. I’ll make him choose me over you.”
I shake my head slowly, almost pitying him. “And until then, you settle for cheap shots and threats? That’s your grand plan, huh?”
His knuckles whiten as he grips the counter. “I’m warning you, Leanna, don’t think I won’t do it.”
I step closer, close enough to see the tiny flecks of spit on his lips when he snarls. “Youmighttry. But you’re not smart enough to actually get away with it. And you know it. That’s why you scream and pinch and bite at shadows instead of going for the real thing.”
He freezes, chest heaving. There’s a slight fear there beneath the rage, but it’s enough to make him glance toward Dad, who hasn’t even looked up from the game.
“Let me give you a tip,” I continue, voice even and deliberate. “If you want to be my equal, if you want to matter in the family, start by controlling yourself. Not me.”
He opens his mouth, ready to fire another insult, but stops. His face twists, frustration giving way to something closer to helplessness. Finally, he steps back, muttering under his breath.
I brush past him, head held high, feeling the burn of his glare on my back. He’ll never stop trying. But I’ll never stop standing my ground.
Because in this family, power is a game, and I know how to play it.
Even though my arm throbs with pain, I grab my backpack and head over to kiss my dad on the cheek.
“Going before the game ends?” he asks.
“I have to study for a test,” I say.
“Should I call for a driver?”
I put up a hand. “No, I’m good. I prefer the train.”
My father’s handsome face contorts into a deep mask of disapproval. “It’s safer to use our drivers.”
“I’m fine, Dad. No one knows who I am. I get on that train and I’m just one more person trying to get from A to B.”
“I don’t like it,” he says.
“Love you! Bye!” I chirp as I make a beeline for the front door. I’m out and down the driveway before he can alert any of the security personnel.
When I wave cheerfully at Mack, the gate guard, he waves back with a smile and pushes the button to open the gates that lead to the street. It’s only a two-block walk to the train station from there.
It’s a lie of omission. Or, maybe, a mostly true statement. Usually, I’m right. No one knows who I am. Most people on the train are too absorbed in their phones, their books, or their dogs, or whatever, that Brad Pitt could ride unnoticed.
And who am I? Just a regular college girl.
My dad, though, loves a lesson in paranoia. When he’s feeling particularly conspiratorial, he sends guys to tail me just to prove how easy it is to follow someone without them even noticing.
Once, he had me “fake-abducted.” Big, burly men, dark SUVs, the whole cinematic nightmare. All to show me how utterly defenseless I’d be against the kind of muscle he employs.
