Page 54 of Where the Wind Whispers

Violet tasted the blood seeping onto her tongue.

A ring thrummed in her ears.

Alberto only stopped long enough to grab her face again as he had earlier, and he clouded her vision, hateful, angry … and sad.

Violet found in that second, she didn’t care.

She didn’t care how her father felt or how much she hurt him.

He’d done this to himself.

“He’s already killed his father,” Violet said, a breathless laugh following right behind her words. “Who do you fucking think he’s coming for next?”

Alberto hesitated.

Again.

Once could be dismissed as a mistake.

Twice might be a saving grace.

Alberto’s grip on Violet loosened. “Why?”

She didn’t know what he was asking. He must have seen the confusion in her eyes.

“All I have ever done was love you—why have you done this to me?”

“It’s not about you,” Violet whispered. “That’s the thing, Daddy. It’s never been about you. You’re the only one who wants it all to be for you.”

Violet had forgotten about the other two people in the room who watched the entire scene unfold without so much as a word. They hadn’t tried to step in, and maybe that was for the better. Who knew what would have happened if they had tried to help.

Not that she thought they would.

Violet was coming to learn that no one was out to help someone else.

No hand would help her up.

She had to do this shit herself.

Alberto’s voice wavered as he said, “We didn’t know you were going to be a girl until you came out into the world screaming in the middle of the night. Your mother was feeling strange—the doctors said she had the baby blues, and it would pass eventually. It never really did with you. So there I was, left to pick your name, and I wanted it to be perfect for you, dolcezza. I wanted you to know how beautiful and loved you were all of your life.”

“And you called me Violet.”

“Because you were beautiful, so precious.”

“Fragile,” Violet replied just as fast. “Dependent; at the mercy of someone else. Easily broken. Forgotten and dying.”

Alberto blinked, silenced.

“I’m none of those things, Daddy, not now.”

“I loved you,” he forced out.

Violet nodded. “With strings. So many strings. Don’t hate me for cutting them when I had the chance.”

Alberto’s hold on her tightened briefly before he let go altogether, shoving her away and pointing a finger at her. “It seems I’ve wasted my effort on the wrong person—my mistake, Violet. It won’t happen again, sweetheart. You’ll understand soon enough what it feels like to have your entire soul ripped away from you while you’re laughed at. You’ll understand how much this hurts and what it feels like to lose your heart. Soon—I don’t need to teach your Russian a lesson, I only need to teach you.”

He turned his back on her when he finished. Violet fixed her ripped dress as best she could, bracing herself for the chance that her father might turn back on her again.