Daddy’s Little Pet

But sometimes, we do sick and twisted things for the people we love. ~ Skye Warren.

~~

AMANDA

“Mother!”

I heard the scream before the door to the suite even opened.

Dylan. His face was flushed with rage, and his breathing was difficult as if he’d run a marathon. “What have you done?”From NôvelDrama.Org.

The wine glass in my hand and that of Kent’s froze midair as we exchanged glances, then back at my son, who stood panting and seething in the doorway.

“Dylan,” I exclaimed, putting my drink down. “What are you doing here? How did you get in?”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he took another step into the room and slammed a newspaper on the table. “Explain this,” He demanded.

I looked down, perplexed. Kent reached over and picked up the tabloid, bringing it closer.

The front page read-BILLIONAIRE ROBERT CLARKE ARRESTED FOR MURDER. Photos of Robert being escorted out of his office building flanked by police officers were posted beneath the headline. He was handcuffed and looked miserable.

Well, serves him right, I thought to myself as a nasty sneer crossed my face.

“This is karma,” I hissed, glancing at my son, who looked at me, surprised.

“Karma, how?”

“You came here to discuss your father’s unfortunate situation?”

“Yes.”

“Well, it should teach him a lesson. It’s only fair.”

“How can you say such things, Mother? Did you do this?” He asked.

I rolled my eyes at him but didn’t answer his question. “Kent, would you please excuse us?”

Kent nodded and rose from his chair, dropping his wine glass. However, before he left the room completely, I gave him another command that made his brow furrow.

“Take the black box with you and deliver it as we discussed.”

“But, ma’am. It would be dangerous if you-”

“No buts, Kent. Follow my instructions,” I snapped. “Who’s the boss here?”

“You, ma’am,” Kent responded obediently despite his uncertainty. “As usual.”

“Good. Now, off you go,” I said, waving my hand.

He bowed, donned a glove, and picked up the black box on the bed.

“And who’s that guy? One of your fuck-toys?” Dylan asked before Kent could exit.

Kent halted in his tracks. I gasped in astonishment and fury at Dylan’s harsh comment.

“I wonder if he knows you’ll dump him like the rest of your measly fucks and-”

“Dylan!” I yelled and turned to face Kent, who hadn’t moved. Instead, he just stared, stunned at me and Dylan. I could see his jaw ticking.

“Kent, I’m so sorry about my son. Just leave, please. And after you finish the delivery, can you call me?”

Kent didn’t respond right away, his countenance still surprised and irritated. Then he nodded. “Of course.” He walked out with a slight bow, and the door closed loudly behind him.

I turned around to face my son. “Are you fucking insane? How could you speak that way to the private investigator I hired? We owe that man a lot of gratitude because he’s been doing and handling our dirty work without complaint.”

When he didn’t speak, I became enraged and narrowed my eyes. “You’re going to apologize when he returns. Do you understand?”

“I don’t care if he’s the one doing your dirty work, Mom. And I’d like to emphasize that it’s yours, not mine,” He erupted. “Are you responsible for Dad’s arrest?”

My face paled as I replayed my son’s question in my mind. I spit back at him, enraged, “And what if I am?”

“WHAT?” His mouth dropped open in surprise. “No, ma’am. You did not.”

“Oh, but I did.” As I spoke, my lips curved into an ugly grin. Dylan’s cheeks flushed, and he muttered something. I ignored him and continued “It’s all his fault, and as I’ve said, this serves him right. He started digging his grave the day he stepped out with that low-class attention-seeking hoe.”

Dylan’s face darkened, but I continued, unfazed.

“Your father caused this, and I won’t stop until he becomes mine. There will be no rest for him in this world until I heal our broken family.”

The room fell silent. The only sound was our heavy breathing. His voice broke the quiet. “Mend our broken family? Mother, have you gone insane?”

“Come on, little boy. Be careful what you say,” I warned. But I should have known my son would disregard my orders.

“How bitter and cruel can you get? I thought we were only going to target Renee. What happened to that plan? Why bring in Father, who’s innocent?”

“Innocent?” I scoffed and continued drinking my wine. “Innocent, my ass. Was he innocent while he was fucking your ex-girlfriend and flaunting her as his arm candy?”

He recoiled at my accusation, a horrified expression on his face. I’d struck a nerve-a sore spot. And I liked it.

“You should see your expression right now. It suits you.” I laughed derisively. “So, don’t be a fool. Get your act together. Yes, we intended to harm that bitch. But this arrest will teach your father a lesson and tie him down. Something to keep him occupied while my master plan for Renee cooks.”

“You need help,” Dylan said matter-of-factly. “You want to tie Father down by resorting to murder? Of everything in the world. Murder?” He half yelled. “If he’s found guilty, he could face the death penalty or even life in prison, and you’ are this calm? Mother, what’s wrong with you?” He asked angrily. His inquiry seemed like a plea.

I shook my head and grabbed my wine glass, downing the contents in one swoop and returning my attention to my son, gaze unwavering. “I’m calm, but I’m also not. Your father deserves everything he gets. In his next life, he’ll tread carefully and prioritize his family,” I finished with a hiss.

With a nasty look, I dropped my wine glass and strolled towards my son. I lifted my hand to caress his chin but stopped mid-movement when he flinched away from my touch.

“Don’t!” He warned stiffly.

“But why?” I laughed. “I don’t know why you’re acting so agitated when you should be celebrating with me. Remember, you’re on my side. We mapped out a plan together. What’s happening to all that? How-”

“You’re a monster.” Dylan cut me off, a look of displeasure on his face. “Oh, my gosh. I can’t believe I’m hearing this.”

“A monster?” I repeated. “Well, if I’m a monster for love, then I’ll gladly accept it.”

“Can you even listen to yourself?”

“Yes, I can.”

“You’ve taken this too far. This is all because you are obsessed with revenge. Why can’t you just stop?”

“Stop? No, I can’t, and I’m not going to. Not until I have your father back at my side. Not until he looks at me the same way he looks at that gold-digging scumbag. Not until he apologizes, lavishes me with presents, and treats me like a queen.”

“Oh my God, Mother. You’re revolting.”

My fury rose in response to his remarks. I raised my hand to slap him. As he lurched backward, his face turned blazing red.

“Don’t ever talk to me like that again,” I snarled. “As your mother, I demand respect from you. Especially after everything I’ve done for you.”

“Everything you’ve done for me?” He spat with clenched teeth. “And what exactly is that? Have you forgotten how you tricked me into stealing from Dad when I was 18 years old? How you pushed me to rebel against him till he couldn’t take it any longer and cut off my inheritance? Or should I remind you how you took advantage of me, fabricating lies? You told me it was for a good cause. But we both know it was all just for you.”

In mute disbelief, I lifted my brow. “Excuse me?”

“Yes, excuse you. My entire life, you made me do everything you wanted, trying to get money. Yes, I had my problems, and I was sometimes stubborn, belligerent, and rebellious, but you made me that way. You selfishly destroyed any relationship I could’ve had with that man.”

“Dylan!” I screamed in fury, but he persisted.

“You remember the family get-together you planned when you landed in Orlando. You told me not to come despite how badly I wanted to. You told me to take care of my other problem, and you’d take care of the meeting, but I should’ve known better than to trust you. You’re all about yourself, and everything you do centers around your sick, twisted fantasies-”

“Shut your filthy mouth this instant.”

“No, I won’t. I’ll tell you to your face, Mother, and I don’t care what you do to me after that. You have single-handedly destroyed me. You used me. Made my life miserable. Made my life hell!”

Dylan’s outburst took me entirely by surprise. His words pierced my heart, and I couldn’t say anything back. There was no use disputing his accusations. Once he was finished, he would leave. That much was clear.

But then he said something unbelievable, stunning me. “You’ve gone too far with this revenge game, and I won’t be part of it. I can’t do it. I can’t sit back and watch you ruin my father’s reputation.”

“What are you saying?” I scowled, but he ignored me.

“How did you frame him for murder? Who’s the real killer? You or your so-called aide?”

“Don’t…don’t ask me that.” I felt the blood drain from my cheeks, and a wave of disorientation flood over me.

“You did it, didn’t you?” His accusations, along with the hatred and loathing dancing all over his face, were enough to cause a scream to escape my throat. “Get out!” I yelled, pointing at the front door.

“I’m disappointed in you,” Dylan said as he walked toward the door.

“Get the hell out! Get out and never come back. Stay away from me, and by God, if you do anything dumb, I’ll destroy you!”

He turned to face me with an expression of pity and remorse.

“I only hope you realize your mistake before it’s too late. I’m not a saint, and I still haven’t forgiven Dad for sleeping with my ex. But this? My conscience won’t allow it,” He mumbled faintly. “I wish you the best. Bye, Mother.”

As he walked out, the door slammed heavily behind him, and the sound echoed through the halls. I covered my face and curled in on myself, rocking back and forth as an angry scream ripped my throat. I collapsed onto the floor, my knees raised and my arms wrapped about them.

My son called me a monster. He said I was repulsive and mentally ill. What if I was? I didn’t care! I absolutely didn’t give a fuck!

My REVENGE was all that mattered now, and I was going to take my vengeance and make it bloody count!