Chapter 39. Like a Real Husband and Wife

BELLADONNA

I said nothing to Papa after that. 

What was I supposed to say to that when it was such an obvious lie? 

I looked away from Medea, looking straight ahead, my chest tight to the point of pain and it made it difficult to breathe, a huge lump in my throat, but I still kept my chin high. 

Even though I was falling apart, I still couldn't leave. I still had to sit in this damning meeting until the end. I could leave, I could stand up and walk away, giving an excuse, but that would leave a mark on my perfect slant. 

So I sat down, torturing myself just because I had something to prove. Sometimes, I wonder if maybe I was the weapon formed to fashion against myself.

The meeting went on, Papa still held my hand underneath the table, and I felt that burning gaze on me again, but I didn't look at him. If I do, I might snap and stab that bastard with a pen. 

The meeting finally came at the end—thank God—and the execut