AUDREY'S POV.
I watched Sophia walk away as I tried to smother the increasing desire to snap her neck in half and take my place beside Damien.
I deserved the best things! The richest man, the most wanted bachelor, the most valued company, etc. I'm not interested in building anything from scratch or working my ass up to get Daddy's company enough recognition and clients… I didn't deserve all of that! I deserve to be treated like a queen!
“Mum?!” I yelled as I stomped my way into the house. Sophia and I had met at the sit-out area in the backyard downstairs which is a few feet from the backdoor, we used to have long discussions there as a kid until mother started to make me understand my position in the house, Dad's company, Dad's will and every other rich circle.
I increased the tempo of my voice immediately after I walked into the sitting room. I knew she was either on the balcony upstairs or her study. Those were the places she hung around whenever she spent time in the house. She was rarely in the bedroom even when dad was in it. She called them her favorite places just as I called the sit-out area in the backyard, homey.
“Yes honey, I'm up here.” She yelled back to me and I sped up the staircase. Being from a wealthy home and still being the best thing that happened to your mother makes one feel both special and entitled which leaves me with no choice but to whine for whatever I think is mine whether someone worked for it or not.
“You look distraught.” She spoke with a creased brow as she led me to sit beside her. I'd met her waiting at the doorpost with arms open. I can't count the amount of hugs I got on a daily basis. Sometimes, I just let her know it was her own way of dealing with everything, especially Dad's refusal to openly disown Sophia and pay off newsmen to stop carrying the news until everyone moved on to something else.
I sighed, letting my head ease into her bosom and my nerves relax to her fingers playing with my hair and tickling my skull. There was silence between us for a few minutes before my impatient self began to rattle.
“Sophia visited. I wonder why she feels she can barge in here at any time she desires.” I grumbled but Mum was silent. A familiar way of telling me that she was listening and processing a response for me.
“She showed me a discovery but I didn't believe her.” I immediately got defensive, Mum hated me showing any form of weakness in front of Sophia. She reached out and squeezed my palm gently then went back to caressing my hair.
“It was one of the net worth of Damien in comparison to David and Damien was 50 million richer.” I was at the verge of crying but a sharp tug of my hair got me back into position. “It wasn't one of those blogs or SEO-optimized articles online. It was insider info from an accredited media house. Mum, do you think I lost the better guy to her?” I hurriedly asked to mask the tremble in my voice.
Mum cleared her throat, characteristically. “I knew Damien was richer.” She began but instantly put up a finger to stop me from rattling out of disappointment at not being told. “But, I thought you loved David so I let you get on with it.”
Love? It sounded so foreign on her lips. Mum never stopped because of love there was more to it. Had she gotten into an unknown pact with the Nelsons? Sometimes, I wanted to spit in her face. She had lots of secrets but wanted to know everything about me down to how I put on my undies, how unfair! Her defense was always the same, “I'm your mother and I know what's best for you. I can be an ambitious, ruthless bitch but I'd never hurt you on purpose.” With lots of emphasis on “purpose”.
I took my head off her bosom and myself from beside her entirely. I moved around and settled into the seat opposite. Grabbing the half-empty bottle of red wine, I gulped it down in a haze and tossed the bottle to the wall a few feet behind her, watching it shatter to pieces. Wishing silently that one piece will stick into the back of her head and I watch her bleed until I'm sure that she'll be connected to oxygen on a hospital bed for months; immobile and barely alive.
“What's fucking wrong with you? You're making me go crazy! You make very elaborate plans to harm people and brainwash me into it, making me look like the bad guy while you fuck up someone's life!” My tears had already begun to flow and I'd be damned if I saw my reflection right now.
“Stop yelling!” She commanded with murderous rage. “ That little idiot deserved every single thing you did to her! You're always better! You're smarter, he's your father not hers?! You're curvier and she'll never measure up! Never!” The beast in her spoke. I called it a beast because presently, she looked possessed and I knew better than to move or protest, she could fling me down the balcony and beg me later to forgive her.
I hugged the wall beside me, sobbing quietly as my mother rattled on. My fear was so great I began counting the remaining minutes I had to live. Every time she'd hurt me in such rage played through my mind slowly. My daddy always believed all the stories she'd told about how I got injured and who was I to report them? He'd never seen her like this? To him, she's a sweet woman who could be controlling and obsessive but not a rage-filled beast who always beats up her only child without mercy in private then caress her and smother her with love and care in public.
She grabbed my chin to look into her eyes. They were like steel, they showed no emotions and I could remember the excruciating months of forcefully learning to get my eyes to be that cold with the help of the brutal teachers she'd hired. It was an expression that showed no other expression and was like a mirror, searching and understanding the other person's intent.
“You hate me now? Because I helped you get what you want, you ungrateful brat! You wanted to fuck David's brains off and have him all to yourself. I read your deranged diary where all you write in it are lustful desires! You'd never be with a girl, you idiot! Never!” She cried and I let my sobs be heard loudly.
“You'll have only men touch you, do you understand?” She growled, yanking my jaw roughly as if to dislocate it. I rolled my eyes internally, it wasn't new. I'd grown thick skin.
“What's that I see in your eyes? Refusal? You little slutty bitch!” Her impatient hands grabbed my hair and flung me to the other edge of the room. I begged God in my heart that she should just fling me out the balcony, I'd break some bones but that's also not new. I couldn't deal with the torture, she'd chosen.
She called it “kicking the ball.” She'd fling me across the room, making me hit different items and get bruises everywhere on my body then tell my father I'd not taken my pills and I locked the door and did it to myself.
What a gullible old man!
I take pills - antidepressants to stop me from self-harm but this would instead be a result of a psychotic episode and not usual self-harm but why did he know? She could harm him too so, he always let her have her way.