Chapter 53 Chapter 53
The words landed heavily.
No one expected her to say it so plainly.
But Megan was no longer interested in politeness.
“Well,” she continued, “like I told you before, I do not care what you say or what you think about me at this moment or at this stage of my life.”
Her gaze sharpened.
“I was a fool,” she said. “I was the fool from the very beginning. So yes—I did what I did. I made the choices I made. At that time, I did not know better.”
A bitter realization moved through her face, but her voice remained controlled.
“But now I know. Now I know the kind of person you are. In fact, now I know the kind of people all of you are.”
Her words swept across the whole family.
“So I do not see any reason why you should be this afraid of me,” she went on. “If I am truly as useless as you claim, then why are you all this threatened? Why are you all this desperate? Why are you all trying so hard to silence someone you insist is nothing?”
That question made them visibly stiffen.
“You should be confident,” Megan said. “You should be calm. You should be doing everything possible to ignore me, if you are really certain of your own strength and your own position.”
Then she paused, as if brushing aside everything else as unimportant.
“But that is not even the issue.”
Her eyes returned to Vincent.
“I have no grudge against you,” she said. “The only thing I want is to take back what I gave you. That is all.”
There was no wavering in her tone.
“That is the only issue between us. And that is exactly what I am going to do.”
Then her expression hardened.
“So you have no right—no audacity to stand in front of me and command me as if I am your servant. As if I am someone you can speak to however you please.”
She lifted a finger and pointed directly at him.
“This should be the very first and the very last time.”
Then she turned that same finger toward Deborah.
Toward Jessica, toward Mr. Bushman.
Toward Tasha, One by one.
“This,” she said, her voice lower now, more dangerous, “should be the very first and the very last time any of you will ever stop me like this and speak nonsense to my face.”
The warning was no longer hidden.
“It should not happen again,” she said. “Because if it does if it ever happens again it is not going to end well.”
She held all of their gazes.
“I promise you that.”
That was enough to push Vincent over the edge.
His face twisted in instant fury.
“Shut your godforsaken mouth, Megan! or I will slap you again” he shouted.
The force of his voice echoed sharply at the entrance.
“Is it my parents you are talking to like this? Is it my family?”
He looked as though he could barely contain himself.
“I know you have no respect,” he spat. “I know you have no shame. But you do not talk to my parents in this manner.”
And then, in a burst of anger, he raised his hand to slap her.
But Megan caught it this time, Midair, Just like that.
The movement was so fast that for a brief second no one quite understood what had happened. One moment Vincent’s hand was descending toward her face, and the next, Megan’s hand had locked around his wrist and stopped it completely.
Immediately he blinked, then he tried to force it down.
Nothing, he pushed harder.
Still nothing, not even the smallest shift, Megan did not budge.
She stood there, holding his wrist with one hand as if the effort meant nothing at all.
Vincent’s eyes widened slightly, his jaw tightened.
And for the first time since this confrontation began, something unfamiliar crossed his face.
Not just anger, Confusion.
Shock.
In his mind, the thought struck almost instantly:
What the hell is this? How is Megan this strong?
He tried again, applying more force, but it made no difference. His hand remained suspended where she held it, fixed in place as if trapped in steel.
He could not move her.
He could not overpower her.
And the realization unsettled him deeply.
What is she? he thought. Is she some kind of man or what?
Tasha saw it too.
And the moment she realized Vincent was not getting free, her expression changed. The composure she had worn earlier cracked, replaced by irritation and urgency. Her jaw tightened, and she quickly moved closer, clearly intending to assist Vincent and pull Megan off him.
She reached for Megan’s outfit, grabbing at the fabric she wore.
But before she could do anything more, Megan caught her other wrist too.
Now Megan held Vincent with one hand and Tasha with the other.
And neither of them could move.
Tasha immediately tried to yank herself free, but just like Jessica earlier, she found that Megan’s grip was unbelievably strong. She twisted, pulled, and strained, but Megan’s hand did not loosen.
That only made Tasha more frustrated.
So with her free hand, she lunged again not at Megan’s arm this time, but at her clothing.
Her fingers caught the fabric.
And then, with force, she yanked.
The sound of tearing sliced through the tension.
The fabric ripped.
Part of Megan’s outfit tore at the shoulder and along the upper side, exposing a portion of her skin near her shoulder and side. It did not reveal anything indecent, but it was enough—enough to turn the act from aggressive to humiliating.
And before anyone could react properly, Tasha pulled again.
The tear widened, For that split second, Megan released both of them.
Vincent jerked his hand back immediately.
Tasha stepped away, her face flushed from the struggle.
Then, lifting her chin with cruel satisfaction, she said, “This serves you right. If you had left when you were told, none of this would have happened to you.”