All the bad things {18+}

Female Rage |15

Several heads turn to face me, barely any of which I recognise.
He stands up.

"Don't barge into my office and-"

*SLAP*

The sound of my palm colliding with his cheek resonates sharply through the office. It must've stung and it had to have been hard enough because it turned his face.

I'm surprised at my actions. A part of me wants to apologise as i see my hand print form so visibly as a red hue stains his face.
The men and women behind me gasp in shock.
Two already packing some documents.

"Uncle Tega!" I call to the dark skinned man, who was also my dad's real estate agent. I don't recognise my own voice.
"You let him take it, that house is mine. You just sold something precious to me just because you wanted money." Tears fall down my face, I let them. "You didn't even ask me first, that house is in my name, is it because I haven't signed those documents yet?"

I'm fully aware that there are limitations to one's strength, they can only hold up so long and right now, I'm crumbling.
"Eliana, my dear. Your husband sa-."
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" I demand. "And don't ever address this shameless animal as my husband."

"You little cunt—"
"You opportunist bastard." I grit out. My eyes go facing the vast amount of books and he has documents he has displayed on the shelves behind us.

I walk right past him and reach for the first file i get, ripping it to shreds and flinging them at him and Mr Tega.

I will never address that gold digger as uncle ever again.
I grab another file, it takes a bit of a struggle but i detach it from is medieval like cover before separating it in half from it's spine.

I push his iMac off his desk and fling his phone out the window. I clear his desk, throwing things at random people and I might've knocked Mr Tega unconscious because i threw a MacBook or perhaps a really heavy file at his head. I see a bunch of really neatly collected and organised pens in a corner, covered by glass boxes.
"So my blondie's a geek."

I grab a gun from a display case and shoot at it, reaching in and grabbing a few, snapping several and stomping on the rest.

He's not just standing there but he order's everyone out and lets me continue with my tantrum.

I push the display case and it topples out the window, crashing onto a Rolls Royce.
My only worry is that there is no one in that car.

"Stop —"He commands.
"I don't fucking think so." I find the transfer of ownership document, i got what i came for but i don't slow down, he's always wanted to see my angry and I'll give him a performance.

I want to hurt him, just as much he has hurt me.

Go big or go home.

I throw a few more documents at him, i open one and a bunch of photos fall out.
I pick one up.

It was of me, standing in front of the Chanel store In Paris. I inspect the rest, the wind was blowing my hair in my face and i was on a phone call.

"So you're a creep too." I flip it around, not that I expected it to be double sided.
I try to reminisce. I was 17 in these photos.

"Why do you have photos of me when i was a minor?" I pause. "Are you a pedophile, huh?"
"I'm not, your dad asked some of my men to keep an eye on you."
Another one catches my attention and not to be homophobic. I almost throw up.

It was him, pile driving his half brother and his second in command sitting naked on the bed beside them.

"Wow," I stare intently at the photo. "You didn't rub me off as someone who was gay."

"Im not." He grits out. "Give that here!"
He walks towards me.
"You walk like a drag queen." I laugh out.
He walked nothing like the sort but i wanted to itch him up.

"Mind how you speak to me." He demands.
"Ooh, fruity." I snigger, i try to walk away only to be yanked back by my arm.

He holds my face, squishing my cheeks and forcing me to look at him. He back us both to the closest wall.

"I'm not gay, maybe bisexual, maybe curious."

"Your sex life is none of my concern. No wonder Ivan looked like i stole his man, Petrov too." I smile up at him.

I recall the looks i was given by both men on every occasion we met up.
Petrov seemed unusually close to Lomonosov, Ivan looked like he wanted to throw up when it was mentioned that i had to create a mini Lomonosov.

Didn't they know of Honey?

The air is thick. "That photo wasn't recent." He presses up against me further. "We've been close friends since childhood, sometimes more, I got roped into it." 

"So you're half fruity." I snark and he presses his hand to my lips.
"Stop talking." He demands, using his free to snatch the photo from my hand.
"We were just acting stupid, we got caught up in our teenage hormones and got caught by some blackmailer. He didn't live long enough to tell anyone." He flicks the paper over his shoulder.

"I just kept that for old times sake, i even forgot i had it."

"So, how many times have you had sex with them, with a man in general?" I taunt angrily.

Fuck this, I'd die of shame if he ended up being gay. It'll be so embarrassing to be the ex wife of a gay man.

"Four to five times, maybe less." He pauses and backs off from me. He walks out of the office after grabbing some files from a cabinet.
I follow him, still livid and curious but I'm held back by his bodyguards when he approaches a few people, the people in his office.

"Sorry about my wife, she can be a little crazy at times." He says turning back to look at me.

"Aren't all women?" An older man chuckles.

I feel myself breakout in cold sweat, somethings off.
He hands them the files and then they sign some columns.

"There, the house and plant is yours." He puts his hand out. "It was nice doing business with you."
They exchange a handshake and the man walks away with the aid of his cane.

I recognise that walk, it was hard to miss. I didn't know a lot of disabled people.
He was my dad's biggest competitor in the oil sector of his business.

Mr Joseph Akintola.

I've ran into him once, I wasn't any good at remembering faces but i was 15 when we first met. He and my dad had had a terrible exchange of words and i came in at the wrong time.

He was always trying to dig up dirt on my dad. My father was relentless and denied Joseph the pleasure of seeing him fall, but Lomonosov..... he just threw away my father's lifetime of effort and pride.

I had the best years of my life in that house, my father's sweat and blood was on that oil plant, it was named after my mother whose passing made my father begin to disintegrate his illegal businesses.

"You don't know what you just did." I struggle to keep the tears in my eyes. The guards let me go. "My whole life was in that house."

Lomonosov doesn't bother to look up at me but flips through the files lazily. "I find that hard to believe." He lights up a cigar. "You spent most of your life travelling."

"Shut up!" I demanded, holding what was left of my sanity. "You don't know anything about me, you sold my home to an enemy of my dad... an enemy of mine along with my oil plant just so I could never get it back."

I pause feeling my lip quiver. My head falls as my vision gets blurred by tears.
"I hate you." I look up sharply and meet his mocking expression. "I would have been better off on my own. Give everything back." I wipe my mascara stained cheeks.

"I want a divorce."