5: Craves Vengeance

“HOW could you have let this happen?”

“What?” Citrine asks, puzzled, before picking up the newspaper and reading it. She felt sick to her stomach as her eyes scanned down the page. Governor Vuenza was arrested last night at the Lustrio Hotel during his birthday celebration.

“Why are you blaming me for something I have no control over?” She tried to keep her voice steady while staring at her father in disbelief.

“I specifically told you to take care of that event,” Fabian said sternly, taking a step closer to her. “And you couldn’t even follow my instructions!”

“I did take care of the event; I made sure everything was okay before I left; it wasn’t my fault he got arrested,” she tried to argue, her voice cracking halfway through.

“Of course, you’re to blame! You were incapable of doing anything correctly! You can’t even keep the governor safe from arrest.”

Citrine was at a loss for words, staring at her father as if he’d finally gone insane; she couldn’t believe he was blaming her for something she wasn’t responsible for.

“Dad, I’m a general manager, not a bodyguard. And for Pete’s sake, I am not the only employee of the hote—” she couldn’t finish her sentence when Fabian smacked her again. This time, he hit her so hard that the impact threw her off balance, causing her to fall to the floor while holding her bleeding lip.

“Don’t you dare talk back to me, bastard!” He yelled, kicking her in the stomach and sending her sprawling on the floor once more. Citrine curled in on herself as she saw Olivia on the second floor, watching the entire scene unfold. She just stood there, silently smiling, as if she was having a great time.

“Get her up and throw her in the basement,” her father said, not sparing her a single glance before heading upstairs and leaving her alone with the maids in the living room. She no longer had the strength to fight him on the issue, so she let the maids drag her. After all, this wasn’t the first time this had happened to her.

Whenever Fabian was frustrated, he wouldn’t hesitate to hurt her and then lock her up in one of the storage rooms in the basement. Citrine spent enough time in the Lustrio Mansion to know how a thing works, so she doesn’t fight them anymore. No matter how hard she tries to resist them, it won’t help her anyway, but she promised herself this would be the last time.

“This is what happens when you act too arrogant,” Liv, the maid who’s loyal to Olivia, whispers in her ear before grabbing her arm and pushing her into the dusty storage room. Citrine smirked and decided not to respond, knowing that it would only add to her stress.

Liv used to be her friend in the orphanage, but she began to despise her after learning that she would be adopted by her wealthy biological father. They were nine years old when Liv begged Fabian to take her, too, and hire her. Since then, she has been working for the Lustrio at a young age and has been jealous of Citrine.

“Ha! This sucks,” Citrine muttered as she crouched down next to a box full of rags and old furniture. Her stomach grumbled, and she realized she hadn’t eaten breakfast; she just scoffs because they would probably starve her anyway.

“WAKE UP!” Citrine was startled awake when someone poured cold water over her head. She took a moment to remember where she was before looking up and glaring at whoever had done that to her.

“Sir Fabian wanted you to see him in his study,” Liv said, holding a pitcher.

Citrine got off slowly from the floor, she didn’t say anything, but her palm slapped Liv’s face, causing her to gasp and instinctively grab onto her cheek before returning her gaze to Citrine. She had not anticipated her becoming violent with her. She’s always been silent, no matter what she’s done to her, but now she’s finally had the guts to fight back.

“I’ve been tolerating your shit for long enough,” Citrine said, her voice low and dangerous sounding. “This is my first and final warning, you got me? I won’t hold back if you treat me like dirt again.”

Liv was too stunned to respond and simply gripped the pitcher tightly as Citrine bumped her shoulder roughly, trying to get her out of the way.

“Who do you think you are? You’re just a bastard who doesn’t know her place,”

Citrine came to a halt with an amused grin on her face, she then turned around to face Liv.

“If there’s someone here who doesn’t know her place, don’t you think it would be you?” She smiled as she notice how Liv’s jaw clenched. “I may be a bastard, but I’m still Fabian’s daughter; what about you? You’re just a fucking maid, one that no one wants or cares about.”

“What—”

“I’ve been ignoring your hostility towards me because I understand your jealousy, but I suggest you stop it immediately,” Citrine cut her off, her lips curling into a mocking smile.

“You have no idea how much the devil inside me craves vengeance,” she said as she exited the storage room and went to her room to shower. Normally, Fabian would lock her up for a day or two, but this time she only stayed for 12 hours.

After she showered and changed clothes, she took her phone and saw messages from Gael. She sighed and replied to him while brushing out her hair. She had to lie to him again but she doesn’t feel any ounce of guilt over it.

“You call for me?” Citrine asks after knocking on her father’s study.

“Come in,” Fabian said, and she entered, closing the door behind her. She looked puzzled as he handed her some papers and asked her to improve them as if he didn’t beat her. She just sighed and read the paper, they were a proposal for a hotel management-led expansion project.

“Who did this?” she wondered, as it appeared sloppy and not well thought out. Fabian cleared his throat and turned away from her.

“Trisha made it, so revise it, and send it to me next week,” Citrine smirked, knowing exactly what he wanted to happen.

“So you’re telling me to revise it, but Trisha will still take credit for it?” she asked in disbelief.

“That’s the least you can do for her before you leave the company,”

“Pfft.”

Fabian glare at her when she laughed but Citrine ignored him. After all, he wasn’t worth any fight.

“All right, a week should be enough to fix this tras–I mean proposal,” she said as she exited his study and returned to her room. She sighed loudly as she threw the papers away and slid onto the bed. She then look at her laptop and sighed again when she remembered she was supposed to draft the contract.

She sat up and checked her email, where Revan had sent her the things he wanted to add to the contract’s terms and conditions. She quickly skimmed through them until her gaze was drawn to the sentence that piqued her interest.

She just shrugged and began drafting the contract and sending it to Revan. But as soon as she sent it. Her phone rang, and she reluctantly answered it after seeing the caller ID.

“Who—”

“I hired an investigator for you,” Citrine frowned, hearing Revan’s deep voice on the other end of the line.

“How did you get—”

“From Reliana.”

“Fuck, stop cutting me off in the middle of a question,” she groaned. “Why did you hire an investigator in the first place?”

“Can’t you just say thank you?”

“Well, thanks, asshole,” she rolled her eyes and Revan chuckled, tickling her ear.

“Wow, you sound really grateful,” he remarked sarcastically.

“And your voice is annoying; can I hang up now?”

“Not yet.”

“Why?” she murmured, placing her hand on top of her head and massaging her temple. She kept her voice as low as she could to avoid being heard outside the room. She didn't want anyone to know she was conversing comfortably with someone.

“You have no complaints about the contract’s terms and conditions?”

“No,” she replied, her gaze fixed on the draft on her laptop. Everything Revan added made sense to her. For example, living together after marriage, acting like a real couple in public, and so on. It wasn’t difficult to do, especially since they were going to use each other anyway.

“OK, that’s good because I have.”

“What is it?”

“This clause requires party A and party B to sleep separately in separate bedrooms,” Revan responded. “This is troublesome; my grandfather will undoubtedly visit us, so separating our bedrooms would be inconvenient.”

“Hmm, fine, I can just erase that.” Citrine said nonchalantly. It’s not like it was a big deal, she just doesn’t want to share a bed with him and get used to it, after all, everything will be temporary.

“All right. That’s all.” Revan ended the call and Cutrine set her phone aside. Her thoughts began to wander again, this time to what would happen if she lived with Revan. She knew that once they married, even if it was just a contract, their relationship would most likely change.

And it frightens her. What if her feelings for him returned? She simply sighed and looked up at the ceiling.

“I hope that doesn’t happen; I can’t bear another heartbreak; it’s traumatizing,” she said quietly, closing her eyes.