Page 47 of The Monster I Am
Narrowing my eyes, I send him my finestfuck youglare as I sit down.
“Good,” he murmurs, pleased that I’m following his directions. These men love money more than anything, but I’d also wager this asshole has a submissive, inferiority kink—for other people, anyway. “Let’s cut to the chase, shall we? How much will it take for you to disappear?”
“Excuse me?” I choke out in disgust. “I’m not something you can buy.”
“Your presence is damaging to my son, Ms. Spencer. Rylan has been making poor decisions lately. It’s imperative that I correct that.”
I angle my body forward, locking eyes with him. “You mean you need to save your precious reputation leading up to the elections. Don’t insult me by pretending this is some fucked up version of Romeo and Juliet that you need to rectify with parental boundaries.”
“Interesting language for a young lady,” he tuts. “But I’m not surprised at your reaction, Ms. Spencer. It’s disappointing, yes—but I have other means to ensure your compliance. This ismerely a gesture of goodwill. I’d think long and hard before making any rash decisions. My generosity is limited.”
“Let me be perfectly clear, Max,” I say, calmly. “I have no intention ofdisappearing. Nor do I care to be involved in your twisted daddy relationship. If you have a problem with Rylan’s decisions, that is between you and him.”
Fuck. He knows. Doesn’t he?
Soph was right. Maybe it hadn’t gotten back to me because it was still in Willowbrook territory. But we didn’t factor in that Willowbrook is bigger than just the students walking the academy hallways.
A menacing, deadly smile spreads across his face, a sinking feeling tearing through my stomach as I brace myself for his next words.
“It begins to involve you when my son starts making asinine comments regardinglove. Now, again, Ms. Spencer, either you willingly end this little affair and leave, or I’ll be forced to do it myself,” he says, so eerily calm that the threat of his actual words is nearly missed.
I cross my arms—to show him I’m unbothered by his warning while being a literal oxymoron and needing to feel like I’m physically protecting myself. “Absolutely not. But for argument sake, I’m curious as to where you think I’d go,” I reply, semi-amused. “Money only stretches so far.”
Mayor Astor reaches inside his blazer pocket, retrieving two envelopes. “This first envelope contains ten thousand dollars,” he tells me, tossing them onto the carpet at my feet. “The second has the address and contact details of your father.”
What?
Someone might as well have thrown an uppercut into my chest cavity, the air rushing out in shocked dismay.
“My father?” I repeat, really wishing I wasn’t curious and had the strength to ignore this cheap evident tactic. “Why would you have my father’s information?”
I never admitted it to Mom when she was alive…but I looked. I even tried calling a few times when it got bad but the number I had was disconnected.
I’m no Sherlock Holmes, but in today’s day and age with technology and social media, it’s not impossible to track people down. But it is difficult when they purposefully hide.
It’s part of the reason I held on to the resentment for so long. He didn’t just leave Mom—he left me too. And then went the extra mile to ensure I couldn’t reach him. What kind of parent does that?
Mayor Astor looks pleased with himself, clearly noticing my sudden change of demeanor. “I do my due diligence. I’m sure you know the benefits to planning and preparing for all scenarios.”
I stare at the envelope that begs to be opened. “You’re committed, I’ll give you that,” I murmur quietly. “Unfortunately, I have no interest in knowing the contents of that packet.”
“He’s about forty minutes from here,” Max replies cruelly. “Managing a real estate office. Married,” he pauses, eyes glued to my face, “with a daughter who just turned three.”
It takes everything—and I mean, everything—to stop the hurt from plastering itself all over my face.
“I don’t care,” I comment after a brief hesitation. “And to circle back for clarity, that’s a no to your offer. You can leave now. Take your trash with you.” I gesture to the envelopes.
He stands smugly, adjusting his tie. “You have twenty-four hours, Ms. Spencer before my generosity expires. After that, I’ll resort to less favorable options. Take the evening to consider it. You have nothing else. I’m offering money and a second chance at mending your family. If you refuse, you’ll be quickly remindedabout how little you have and how easily I can influence this town and the people within it.”
“My family is dead,” I insist coldly, rising to my feet. “And if you think I can be blackmailed or bribed, then you are even more foolish than I originally thought.”
He straightens, an air of danger emanating from him. But I continue.
“I’m not sorry your son loves me,” I tell him sharply. “But I do feel sorry for Rylan that his own father doesn’t love him. So, you’re wrong, Max. Even if you do your worst, I won’t have nothing. Because I have three things you never will—your son’s love and respect, and a good fucking heart. Now, for the last time, get the fuck out of my house before I remove you in a manner that registers on flight radar systems.”
Tilting his chin up, he leers at me, unbothered by the threat. “Twenty-four hours, Ms. Spencer. And let me be clear: It won’t be just yourself that suffers the consequences if you refuse to comply. I’ll make sure Rylan does as well.”
I’m ashamed to admit that Max fucking Astor got to me.
