Chapter 53

Meerah pov

“Oh my goodness! Meerah, I just received an alarming message from the depths of hell pit regarding your reckless visit that triggered an absolute disaster.” My father's voice boomed from the balcony, his grip on his phone so tight that I could see the whiteness of his knuckles.

"I'm speaking to you, young lady," he bellowed, his tone fierce and unyielding.

I couldn’t help but scoff, a mixture of defiance and disbelief surging through me.

I stood there, rigid, my eyes locked onto my father's furious face, his expression a tempest of rage as he glared down at me from the balcony. The phone remained clutched in his hand, its screen flickering dimly in the twilight as if mirroring his simmering fury. I could almost imagine steam rising from his head, his anger palpable even from this distance.

"Those alphas are just a bunch of gossipers! I thought they'd have the decency to keep their mouths shut while I played my roles," I shot back, my voice echoing defiantly through the grand halls adorned with shadows. I shifted in my seat, a smirk tugging at the corners of my lips, relishing the moment.

"I heard you, Father! Yes, I visited, but it’s been six whole days now," I drawled, trying to maintain a tone of indifference despite the storm of emotions swirling inside me. I watched as Father's face became even more crimson, eyes bulging with barely contained fury.

"Wow! And I’m only learning about this debacle now?" He scoffed incredulously, raising a bemused eyebrow.

"Maybe they kept it from you because they nearly obliterated me while defending Lyra," I retorted, my voice dripping with biting sarcasm. His expression darkened further, storm clouds gathering overhead.

"How dare you!" he thundered, taking an intimidating step forward, the floor creaking under his weight. I held his gaze unwaveringly, my heart hammering in my chest, adrenaline coursing through my veins.

"Those... those beasts!" he sputtered, rage radiating from him as if it could physically manifest. "They can't even treat Lyra with a shred of disdain. I sold her to them for her suffering, and this is how they repay me?" His words dripped with venomous resentment, igniting a fierce spark of anger within me that threatened to erupt.

I rose to my feet, fire igniting in my eyes as I faced him. "That's precisely the issue—Lyra is being treated like a princess," I declared, my voice unwavering even as tension crackled in the air. Father's face twisted in a mask of fury, and he advanced a step closer, the unyielding intensity of his presence nearly suffocating.

"Why on earth did you visit her?" he spat, his voice like gravel, each word dripping with seething anger. I shrugged, striving to convey an air of casual indifference, even as my heart raced.

"I didn’t visit for any particular reason," I replied, letting sarcasm lace my tone. "I simply wanted to see if Lyra was still breathing." My words hung heavily between us, the chill of defiance evident in my stance. Father’s eyes narrowed dangerously, his piercing gaze feeling like a blade slicing through my façade.

“Don’t lie to me, Meerah,” he warned, his voice dropping to a low, menacing whisper that sent a chill up my spine. “You wouldn’t have gone to her without a motive. What exactly did you do?”

I smiled sweetly, a surge of exhilaration coursing through me as my heart raced. "Oh, Father, you're just so paranoid," I said, injecting my words with a sharp edge of venom. "Perhaps I was merely curious to see the hellhole you sold Lyra into." As the words left my lips, I watched his face darken, a shade of deep purple spreading across his features, his eyes bulging with uncontained fury.

"You're pushing your luck, Meerah," he warned, the low rumble of his voice sending a chill down my spine, each syllable steeped in dangerous threat. With a slight arch of my brow, I felt my heart thud relentlessly against my ribcage, a blend of adrenaline and defiance surging through me.

“Or perhaps I’m only just beginning,” I declared, my voice unwavering as I met his gaze. “That young lady you sold into suffering is now thriving, embracing her best life.” As the words left my lips, I could see the fury ignite in Father's eyes, a storm brewing beneath his calm exterior. For an agonizing heartbeat, I was certain he would explode, racing down the stairs to confront me, his hands ready to choke the defiance from my throat.

I smiled, a cold, calculated smile. "I'm scared now, Father," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. Father's eyes narrowed, and he turned on his heel, storming back into the house.

I watched him go, my heart still racing with excitement. The conversation had left me feeling electrified, my senses on high alert. I knew I had pushed Father's buttons, and the repercussions would be severe. But I didn't care. For the first time in my life, I felt alive.

As I stood there, trying to catch my breath, I heard Father's voice again, this time muffled by the distance. "Bring me the whip," he bellowed. I knew what that meant. I was in for a world of pain.

But I wouldn't back down. Not now, not ever. I stood taller, my shoulders squaring, ready to face whatever Father threw my way. The game had begun, and I was ready to play.

I turned to head back inside, my heart still racing with adrenaline. But as I stepped into the house, I was met with an eerie silence. The servants scurried about, their eyes downcast, avoiding mine. They knew what was coming.

I smiled to myself, a fierce determination burning within me. I would take whatever Father dished out, but I wouldn't break. I would rise above it, stronger and more resilient than ever.

The sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, heavy and deliberate. Father's footsteps. My heart skipped a beat, but I stood my ground, my eyes locked on the door.

The door swung open, and Father strode in, the whip coiled in his hand. "You need to learn your place, Meerah, hell pit is not for crazy ladies like you" he repeated, his eyes glinting with malice.