Chapter 48: Fuck You Too!!!

That Same Day, Back In The States. Megan’s POV...

Megan lay face-up, motionless, on the plush bed, the soft Egyptian cotton sheets tangled around her legs. Her blonde hair splayed out across the velvety pillow like a golden crown, her lips drawn into a tight line. The silence in the grand, empty room pressed down on her like an invisible weight. The only other piece of furniture besides the bed was a single barrel chair pushed into the far corner, useless and out of place in the vastness of the opulent space. Two Secret Service agents flanked the door like marble statues— still, alert, unreadable.

She sighed, loud and frustrated, her eyes never leaving the ornate white ceiling above her. “When are you going to let me out?” Her voice was sharp, clipped with irritation as she abruptly sat up, sweeping strands of hair from her face.

The agents exchanged a brief glance but said nothing.

“I’m talking to you!” she barked, her voice rising. “Are you deaf or just fucking stupid?”

Still no response.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she spat, flinging the blanket violently off her body. It landed in a crumpled heap on the floor as she swung her legs off the bed and stood.

She stormed toward the door, heels clicking against the marble tiles, stopping inches from the agent on the left. He stepped forward, raising an arm across the threshold.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you leave, ma’am. You know that already,” he said flatly.

“Drop your hand,” Megan warned, her tone deadly calm but her jaw clenched tight, her eyes blazing with fury.

“I can’t allow you to pass. You’re under house arrest. Please… go back to your bed.”

Megan leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper, venom laced in every word. “Drop that fucking hand. Now. If you know what’s good for you.”

The agent didn’t flinch. “Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be.”

Without hesitation, Megan tried to slip past him, but he grabbed her by the shoulders and held her firmly in place.

“Let go of me!” she screamed, struggling against his grip, but the man didn’t budge.

“I will use minimum force if necessary,” he warned. “We’ve been ordered to restrain you if you attempt to leave. I’m asking you— go back.”

Megan froze. Her breath hitched in her throat. “Did Carlos tell you to do this?”

Silence.

“Did. Carlos. Tell you to do this?” she asked again, slower this time.

Still, the agent didn’t answer. He held her just long enough before releasing his grip.

Megan exhaled sharply, then backed up slowly, hands raised slightly. “Alright. Fine. I’m going.”

The agent lowered his guard slightly, cautiously watching her steps.

“Thank you,” he said, relieved that she complied.

Megan stared at him for a beat, her lips curling into a cold, controlled smile. She let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “You know…” she began, brushing imaginary dust from her sleeve, “if I told Carlos you laid a hand on me… he’d have your fucking head for that."

"You know that right?”

“I’m only following his orders, ma’am.”

“What’s your name?” she asked, her voice velvet-soft, dripping with false charm.

“That’s none of your business.”

Megan’s eyes narrowed. Her voice hardened. “Do you know it's me you're talking to?”

“I do,” the agent replied, his tone unwavering. “And?”

Her jaw tensed. “I see what this is,” she murmured.

The agent raised an eyebrow. “And what exactly do you see, ma’am?”

“You must feel very powerful right now. Blocking doors, giving orders, treating me like some caged animal.”

The agent didn’t blink. “And you must feel very small. Powerless. Irrelevant.”

That struck a nerve. Her lips parted, stunned.

The second agent, who had remained silent throughout the entire exchange, finally spoke up, his voice calm but stern. “Enough. We’re just here to make sure she stays in the room.”

He thenbturned to Megan. “Please, ma’am. Don’t make this harder on yourself. Return to your bed.”

“She needs to hear it,” the first agent snapped. “She’s not important here anymore.”

“That’s not your call. That’s for Mr. Antonio to decide,” the second responded.

Megan’s fists clenched at her sides. Her nails dug into her palms so hard it hurt. She turned around abruptly and stormed back toward the bed.

As she sat down, she flung a final venomous shout over her shoulder. “FUCK YOU!”

“FUCK YOU TOO,” the first agent shot back without hesitation.

She spun around to face him again, not breaking eye contact. Her breathing was ragged. Her cheeks flushed red with rage. She didn’t blink. Didn’t speak. Just stared. And in her stare was the kind of silent fury that could raze cities.

Her knuckles were white against the edge of the mattress. Her body trembled, not from fear, but from the desperate fury of someone used to getting everything— now forced to sit in a gilded prison.

Her lips finally parted, barely audible, more to herself than anyone else in the room:

“He’s going to regret this.”

Neither agent responded. They stood still, watching her, like two walls she would never move past.

And Megan, her world collapsing behind her eyes, sat in silence once again— trapped in the very kingdom she once ruled.