The Monster at My Feet novel Chapter 14

Suddenly, a thought struck Helena. She pointed an accusatory finger at Sylvie. "Did she drag you to that trashy bar?"

Lucas looked confused. "No, I took her."

Helena scoffed. "You've lived your whole life without incident, but the second you start hanging around Sylvie, this happens? She must have provoked some shady characters. She's barely been back for a minute and she's already got you taking her to bars. Who knows what she's plotting?"

Sylvie's eyes instantly welled with tears. She spoke slowly, her voice trembling. "I know you hate me because I'm your stepdaughter, but you can't humiliate me like this! All I wanted was to have a normal family and go to school like a regular person."

She let her voice carry. Several people nearby turned to look, casting judgmental glances at Helena.

Helena let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. "What is that supposed to mean? You're making it sound like I abuse you!"

"Enough!" Lucas frowned. "Mom, I told you she had nothing to do with it! Why are you constantly attacking her?"

Helena took a deep breath, swallowing her fury, and forced a smile at Lucas. "Fine, let's drop it. You get some rest. I'm going to step out for a minute."

She was learning to be smart.

Lawrence walked out, his face like a thundercloud. "Outside."

The door clicked shut, cutting off the warmth of the room. Now, they were a family of three standing in the cold hallway. But Lawrence, playing the role of the father, had completely dropped the concerned act. His gaze was entirely calculating.

"I've frozen your card. Keep your head down and stay out of trouble."

Sylvie's eyes widened in genuine shock. She was already broke. Her monthly allowance was less than what Lucas dropped on a single bar tab, and now she was getting absolutely nothing?

Helena watched Sylvie's devastated reaction with profound satisfaction. "First, you show up with a mysterious designer dress you have no business owning, and now you drag my son to a bar and get him assaulted. I knew it. You're a troublemaker. Too easy to corrupt."

Lawrence nodded grimly. "Exactly. You're going to spend the next few days thinking about your behavior. Once you prove you can act properly, I'll reconsider your allowance." He waved a dismissive hand and turned back to the door. "Go home. Make sure you behave yourself at the banquet tomorrow night."

The young girl sighed deeply. Before she realized it, she was walking past Muse Lounge.

The exterior was still understated and luxurious, completely untouched by the bloody chaos that had unfolded inside. She wondered if the culprit had been caught.

Meanwhile, inside the private room.

The man sat in the exact spot Sylvie had occupied. His fingertips, crusted with dried blood, gently traced the rim of the glass she had drunk from. He looked utterly obsessed, drowning in the sensation as he slowly, tenderly caressed the edge.

After a long moment, his trembling hand brought the glass to his lips. Was this the spot? Did she drink from this side, right over the etched pattern?

He closed his eyes, pressing his lips against the cold crystal.

His Adam's apple bobbed as a suppressed, ragged pant escaped his throat. His brows knitted tightly together—caught somewhere between absolute agony and pure euphoria.