"Diana."
Isla clutched the phone tighter before she lost her mind and smashed it on the floor. Here he was, calling after all these years of deserting her. She cursed him for not waiting until the inquest was over.
A/N: Diana is Isla's middle name.☺️
"Mr Dehler?" Her tone was sharp and hostile. She couldn't bring herself to call him her dad.
"You know, I wasn't expecting you to pick up. You're supposed to be dead."
Isla stood rock still. He was still this wicked? She winced in pain as flashes of her terrible childhood came back. If she were too die now, her death wish would be to stab her dad in his throat with a razor. That way they'd die together and reunite with the devil himself in hell. The devil and two devils.
"You could have hired an assassin to hunt me down months ago. You should have killed me when you had the chance, Mr Dehler."
He cackled. She imagined him strapped up in his wheelchair, newspapers spread out on the table before him. She knew he stank of tobacco, that he hadn't shaved his beard in a month.
"Stop playing games with me. Say whatever crap is on your mind and get off the phone. I'm not missing my best friend's inquest because you were stupid enough to call me at this time. What do I pay those damned nurses for, huh? I strictly warned them to keep you out of my life."
"You're turning the tables now, huh? Pretty little dickh___"
"What do you want? Money? I'll wire you a couple of bucks asap, then you forget that I ever existed. Deal?"
She tied her curls in a bun and secured it with a diamond hairpin. It glittered in her hair, highlighting the hues of silver that Isla got when she last visited her stylist.
"I want more."
Her breathing stopped for three seconds before her knees gave way and she crashed on the floor. She'd always been disgusted with his nagging her for money, but she wished that was the case now. She knew that he spent half of his cash on tobacco. He'd gamble the rest away, then ask her for more.
She never really cared, just wished that he gambled away his life someday.
"Fuck you," she snapped.
He laughed out loud. She heard him moving around in the wheelchair, the rustling of papers in the background.
Penelope, her personal maid, poked her head through the door. Isla shot her a withering glance. She took that as her cue to retreat, but her mistress raised her hand.
"What the fuck do you want?" Her back was turned to the maid, who wrung her palms together, distressed.
"Your ride to the courthouse is ready, Miss Diana. And I've made you breakfast. Waffles with flax and almond butter and eggs."
"Which type of eggs?" Isla threw her coat over her shoulder.
She'd hung up on her dad a couple of minutes ago, saying something like, "Gotta go, asshole. See you in hell."
"Scrambled." Penelope said that as Isla strode towards the entrance, where she was shivering.
"This is the last time I say this nicely, ungrateful brat. I. Hate. Scrambled eggs!" She yelled.
Her maid stumbled backwards, tittering dangerously on the first stair.
"But you loved them last week when Mr Sherman came visiting___"
"I'll love them whenever I want, thank you very much. Right now,I hate them, so you'd better whip up some healthy breakfast for me asap. And hey, I'm turning sweet sixteen next Monday. You should clean..." She gestured all around them, "This mansion up."
YOU ARE READING
Make You Love
Teen FictionWhat started as a tiny crush on each other in middle school grows into a larger infatuation as they make it through Bright Wood High together. For Craig, it's easy to confess his feelings to his best friend, Isla. But how does he feel knowing that s...
