Aria’s POV

My ears rang from the force of that slap and when I looked up at him, I realized that even though I could see his mouth moving, his eyes red and face distorted as saliva flew from his mouth in what I was sure was a rant, I could not hear anything.

He pulled me by my hair and I screamed, kicking out and trying to break free even though I already knew how this was going to end. He would not rest until he had beaten me black and blue and then he would lock me up and I would have to wait in pain until he determined I was repentant for whatever sin he had accused me of.

Freeing myself from his grasp, I turned and crawled towards my sketch pad, screaming again when he tried to drag me towards him. When the ringing in my ears finally stopped, the words that floated to my ears made my eyes widen in horror.

“I’ll tear that bloody book to shreds. Come here, you little brat.” My father yelled and the first tear since I was slapped finally trickled down my cheeks. I couldn’t let him win this time. I could not let him touch my sketch pad. Anything but my book. The last thing I wanted was to be in this situation. Especially with Roma waiting outside.

He already knew my father abused me and considered me a commodity, given that he had handed me over to Roma almost immediately, but I had whatever little pride I had left to protect.

Kicking his hand away, I grabbed the sketch pad and folded my body into a protective position.

“You think that’s going to save you from me? How dare you run away and come back here?”

He kicked me and I bit my lips to stop myself from screaming. I had learned from previous experiences. The more I begged or cried, the more he seemed to enjoy hitting me. If I could just bear it for a little while, he would walk away.

“I knew I had messed up when I was given a little brat like you and the one time you are finally useful for something, you decide to run?” Another kick followed and this time, I could taste my b***d from where I had bitten my l*p.

“First I’ll tear that wretched book and then I’ll lock you up until you come to your senses.” He spat and I closed my eyes, my body shaking as I waited for the next blow. It never came. Instead I heard my father scream in pain and when I looked up, I saw a dark figure standing in front of me. My father was on the ground on the other side of the room.

Roma.

Raising my head slowly, I watched helplessly as he squatted until he was looking at my face.

Rage. Pure unadulterated rage looked back at me from those blue eyes and when he tried to touch my face and I winced, already feeling a swelling from where my father had slapped me, Roma rose to his feet without saying a word and turned, moving like a predator on the hunt to where I saw that my father whimpered as he tried to get up.

Pulling my father up by his wrist, I heard a sharp crack and the howl of pain that followed it would forever remain imprinted in my memory. Roma had broken his hand.

“How dare you?” Roma screamed into his face and my father shook, tears pooling down his cheeks.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He sobbed and the smile that Roma gave in response was the exact representation of just how funny he thought that apology was.

“Then I am sorry too.” Roma answered silently, that sadistic smile on his face that made my eyes widen in panic. He looked like murder was on his mind. I remembered that it was my pleas that had saved my father the last time, but this time, would it work? Releasing my father’s hand, Roma held my father’s throat and I saw his feet leave the ground and knew that it was only one snap that he needed to make for my father to die.

Because for all of his excesses, my father was still human. No match against an Alpha wolf. “Please, don’t. Please.” I blurted out, surprised that my voice came out steady even though I was shaking.

Roma looked at me like I was mad for begging for my father’s life. Maybe I was.

But I didn’t want him to die. He had been a good father once. I held on to those memories of us when things were still good and he was not addicted to gambling and alcoholism.

He was a monster now, yes, but I could not bring myself to watch him die in front of me.

“Please.” I said again, looking at Roma earnestly.

Dropping my father like he weighed nothing, Roma picked me up bridal style and carried me out of the house. Placing me in the passenger seat, he entered the car and took a long look at me, my hands crushing the sketch book against my chest.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” I said, attempting to smile and when I looked at his face, I realized that was the worst thing I could have said because he looked like he was ready to go back into the house and finish what I had stopped him from doing.

His body shook and he slammed his palm against the steering.

“So when will it be as bad as it looks? When you are in a coffin? When you’re dead? I should have killed him when I had the chance. No, I should have killed him the first time.” He yelled and my eyes welled up with tears again.

How did I explain to him that my father wasn’t always like that? And that was why I held on to the hope that one day he would be free from the clutches of alcohol and be the father I remembered when I was little?

“No please. Don’t kill him please. I’ll do anything to keep him alive. If you could allow me to call someone to take him to the hospital then…” The rest of the words died in my throat when I saw Roma’s face and I quickly wiped the tears that had started trickling down my cheeks.

Roma parked in front of a drug store and shook his head.

“Does your life mean that little to you, Ajello? Have you looked in the mirror? I’m sure that’s not the only bruise you have.”

His eyes moved to my neck and his laugh was bitter.

“Then again, I’m one to talk. After what I did to you, I shouldn’t have anything to say in this matter, but I’ll say this. I don’t care whether you love your father to the ends of the earth, but sometimes, you must do what is right to save yourself. Even if that involves protecting yourself instead of your father. Take it from me. I should know all about having a monster as a sire.”

I opened my mouth, shocked at the fury in his eyes and wondered what he meant about having a bad father.

Even more confusing was the remorse I saw on his face, but before I could reply, he stepped out of the car and entered the drug store.

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