CHAPTER 84: 84 - BELONG TO ME

84

~Belinda’s POV

"Sit," I said, keeping my voice calm, even though I could already feel the irritation crawling under my skin.

Lisa stood there like she didn’t trust the air itself. Her eyes moved from the doorway to the walls, then to me, like she was waiting for something, or someone, to jump out. I didn’t rush her. That would’ve been too easy. No, I wanted her to stew in that discomfort for a bit. Let her nerves crawl.

She crossed her arms, still standing stiff as a stick. "Why did you call me here?"

I smiled, one of those carefully crafted, tight-lipped smiles I’d spent years perfecting. A smile that didn’t reach my eyes. A smile that hid every sharp word I wanted to spit.

"You’ll see," I said smoothly. "Just sit."

She hesitated for a second more, and then finally moved. Her steps were cautious, like she was walking across a frozen lake that could crack under her weight. I watched every single move. The way her fingers curled tighter around her own arms. The way her shoulders tensed up like someone had pressed a knife to her back.

She lowered herself onto the edge of the chair beside mine, barely letting her full weight sink in. She looked like she could spring up and bolt through the door any second.

Her discomfort made me want to laugh.

I reached for the small glass tray on the table in front of us, two glasses filled with chilled, ruby-red juice, and lifted it, holding it up a little as if I was offering the crown of a kingdom.

"Juice?" I asked lightly, my voice calm and even.

She raised a brow, eyes narrowing just slightly. "Seriously?"

"Yes, Lisa," I said, gently placing the tray between us. "I’m offering you juice. It’s not poisoned."

She scoffed immediately, her expression twisting with amusement and sarcasm. "That’s funny, coming from you. How do I know you’re not trying to poison me again?"

I let out a small laugh, shook my head, and took the glass she was eyeing. I sipped it slowly and then held it up with a smirk.

"See? Still alive," I said. "And it’s nice that you didn’t take it. I didn’t waste good juice on someone who doesn’t appreciate kindness."

Lisa rolled her eyes and folded her arms. "What do you want, Belinda?"

I leaned back and crossed my legs. "Do you like the toy Damon got you?"

She blinked, clearly caught off guard. "What?"

I repeated the question. "The toy. You know, the one he handed to you like some proud father. Do you like it?"

Lisa stared at me for a second too long. "Is that why you called me here? To ask stupid questions?"

I stood up slowly, walked to the window, and looked outside for a few seconds. The sky was starting to darken, but it wasn’t night yet. The sun was just tired.

I turned back to her.

"Do you really know the triplets?" I asked, softly at first.

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

I took a few steps forward, stopping just in front of her.

"They’re beasts, Lisa. Monsters."

"They killed their father, you know."

She froze.

I saw it. The way her hand trembled slightly on the table. Slowly, she turned back to face me, her brows drawn together in confusion.

"What did you say?" she asked, her voice just above a whisper.

I tilted my head and walked back to my seat with calm, slow steps, like I wasn’t dropping a bomb on her world.

"You heard me, Lisa. They killed their father. When they were just eighteen."

She blinked, as if her brain was still trying to catch up. "That’s not true."

I laughed. Loud and bitter. "Oh, sweetheart. You’re still thinking they’re just misunderstood angels with dark pasts? Poor boys needing love to fix them?" I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. "No. They’re killers."

Her voice shook. "Why would a child kill his or her father? That doesn’t even make sense."

I smirked, leaning back like I had all the time in the world. "Why don’t you ask them? Oh, wait... you can’t. Because you’re too busy playing house and blushing every time Damon looks at you like you’re special."

Lisa’s jaw clenched, and she stepped away from the door, walking slowly back toward me. Her eyes were narrowed now, her chest rising and falling faster.

"You’re lying."

"I have no reason to lie," I said calmly. "Not about this. You think I’m warning you because I’m jealous, but I’m warning you because you’re walking blindfolded into a snake pit."

She shook her head. "You’re not warning me. You’re taunting me. There’s a difference."

I smiled at that. A cold, sharp smile. "Maybe. But it doesn’t change the truth."

Lisa crossed her arms. "If they really killed their father, why haven’t the Elders done anything? Why hasn’t anyone said anything?"

I stared at her, my gaze flat. "Because they covered it up. Buried it like everything else. Do you really think power like theirs comes without blood?"

She swallowed hard. Her voice trembled now. "What did he do? Their father....why did they kill him?"

I looked at her for a long moment, then chuckled darkly. "Now you want details? You, who doesn’t even know what Damon does when he disappears for days? You don’t even know what Kael’s wolf is capable of. You think you can handle Rowan when his rage takes over?" I stood slowly and walked up to her, standing toe to toe. "You don’t know anything about your mates, Lisa. Not even the barest truth. And yet you really think you can compete with me?"

She blinked, stunned. "What?"

I laughed in her face. "You walk around here with that shy smile and innocent act, thinking you’ve ’touched’ something real. But let me tell you something, they let you see what they want you to see. That’s not love. That’s control."

She stepped back, but I didn’t stop.

"You think they’ve changed because they gave you a silly stuffed toy and whispered sweet things in your ear? Wake up. You don’t know them. You don’t know what it means to carry their scars. I do."

Lisa’s voice was quiet. "Then why are you still here? If you hate them so much?"

I paused for a moment.

Then I smiled, eyes cold. "Because hate is just another kind of bond. And sometimes, hate is harder to break than love. And the luna position belong to me!"

She stared at me like she didn’t know whether to run or cry.

So I leaned in and whispered, "You’re in way over your head, little girl. And by the time you realize it... it’ll be too late."