Page 102 of A Sinful Gravity

Just like when I was small. She never cared if I was hurt. Only how many awards I won.

When the King family proposed the marriage arrangement, she agreed immediately. Told me I'd never need to dance ballet in public again.

In her eyes, there was no "are you okay?" Only "is it impressive enough?"

"Enough!"

I jerked my head up, cutting off her abuse with everything I had. My voice rang harsh in the quiet street.

I breathed deep, forcing down the trembling rage, straightening my spine.

I looked into her eyes. Each word distinct.

"Enough. I'm not that little girl who only knew how to please you anymore."

She froze.

"I'm a principal dancer with the Royal Ballet now." My voice was clearer than I expected. "I proved my worth through my own effort. Not because of anyone else. Because of me."

Her face changed.

"What are you saying? Don't you realize what you need to do is make Cassian forgive—"

"I'm saying I won't be anyone's accessory anymore. Not yours. Not Cassian's." I cut her off. Deep inside, that ruin called "mother's love" finally collapsed completely. Nothing left but cold rubble.

Fury flared in her eyes. She laughed coldly, lifting her chin. "Your so-called worth is useless. Securing your position as Mrs. King—that's your only way forward."

"I'm leaving soon." As I said it, the tightness in my chest eased slightly. "If you only came to say this garbage, then I think we don't need to see each other again."

She went still. Like she hadn't expected the daughter who used to take everything silently, who barely dared raise her voice, to speak to her this way.

Then it registered. Her face shifted from shock to rage.

"What did you say?" Her voice pitched higher. "You dare cut ties with me?"

I looked at her. For the first time in over twenty years, I didn't lower my head.

"Yes," I said. "I don't need to prove anything to you anymore. I don't need your approval. I'm good enough already."

Her face flushed. Her voice went shrill.

"Without me, where would you be? You wouldn't even have that pathetic principal position! Now you've gotten arrogant enough to talk to me like this?"

"I became principal because I worked for it," I said. "Because I practiced until my feet bled every day. Because I went back to rehearsal three months after giving birth. I carried everything alone! It has nothing to do with you!"

"A child?" She caught it instantly, seizing the keyword. "Cassian's? A daughter or—"

Calculation and delight tangled across her face. Seeing that familiar expression, something exploded in my head.

"Don't you dare go after my child." My voice was pure warning. "Don't even think about turning her into another me!"

Offended humiliation detonated across her face. Her features twisted with rage, shattering her carefully maintained elegance.

"I didn't raise you well enough? You ungrateful wretch!"

She whipped her hand up, carrying twenty-plus years of authority and her fear of losing control, swinging hard at my face.

Her favorite method of discipline—violence and shame to remind me of my place.