"I didn't know Natasha would be allowed to vote," Azra whispered in confusion to Ash as they watched from a distance.
As Natasha approached her father's table, cold sweat broke out across his skin.
"My vote goes to Mr. Walker," Natasha said loudly and firmly, her eyes fixed solely on her father.
She waited impatiently for him to lose his mind. He stared back at her with bloodshot eyes, his face burning red with rage as his hand clenched into a fist.
"Then it's decided. Mr. Walker is president once again, with two votes," Levi announced, his expression proud, though he hid his disappointment over their scheming and secrecy.
Everyone applauded—everyone except her father, who watched in silent fury. She knew that look well.
People slowly began to disperse.
"Just when I think you can't be a bigger disappointment, you prove me wrong," her father finally snapped once most of the room had cleared, slamming his hand against the table. She smiled at that.
She enjoyed the despair she saw in front of her.
She had waited a long time to take away the one thing he had always wanted. Not wanting to look at him for another second, she turned and headed for the exit.
"Couldn't you be useful for once in your life?!" He jumped up and grabbed her arm.
While he shouted, she didn't turn around. She just stood there, waiting for the worst.
She was used to this behavior.
He roughly twisted her head so she would look at him.
"I wish you'd never been born," he yelled, his eyes filled with hatred.
Her eyes welled with tears. She had heard it countless times and thought his words couldn't hurt her anymore—but she was wrong.
Levi, who was still in the room, couldn't stay out of it any longer.
"You will never touch her again," he warned, shoving her father hard.
"I won't allow this behavior. Get out," the president said, pushing them apart and asking Mr. Jones to leave before Levi attacked him and landed himself in serious trouble.
"I wasn't planning to stay anyway. She's no longer my daughter," Jones said coldly, shooting her one last hateful glance before leaving.
"I never was!" she shouted after him, making sure he heard, her laughter echoing through the room.
Levi watched her with concern. She looked unhinged—but he knew how much pain hid behind that laughter.
"Are you okay?" the president asked, worried.
"Yes. If only you knew how many times I've heard that," she said through laughter, turning her back on them.
She was happy—truly happy—but even though she didn't want to admit it, a part of her was sad about how things had turned out.
She quickly left the room and went to the bathroom.
Levi didn't want to leave her alone, but he knew she wouldn't want him following her.
His reason told him to stay away. His heart told him otherwise.
When he reached for the bathroom door handle, he heard her crying.
She was crying out of rage.
She was bitter—at her father, at herself, at the whole world.
She felt like she was losing her mind as she destroyed everything in front of her, letting the darkness swallow her whole.
Levi didn't open the door. He sat down in front of it instead.
He knew she wanted to be alone, but something in him refused to let it end that way.
He leaned his head against the door and closed his eyes.
What am I supposed to do with you? You're heavy as black soil, he thought, rubbing his forehead.
.
Once she pulled herself together, she went to her mother—who always managed to comfort her and erase her father's words.
"At least I'll never have to see him again," she said while drinking a glass of alcohol.
Her mother watched but didn't stop her. Her heart was breaking too.
It was only the second time Natasha had ever drunk alcohol.
She hated alcohol because of her father—but sometimes she needed it to escape reality, just a little.
"I'm going to the cabin," she mumbled as she slowly stood up.
"You can't drive in that state," Marry said worriedly.
"I called a taxi." She kissed her mother and left.
Only then did her mother finally let the tears fall—the ones she had held back while Natasha was there. She regretted choosing that man all those years ago. When she realized what he truly was, it was already too late to save them. Maybe she could have tried harder. And she hated herself for not doing so.
.
"There were only two demons. I handled them myself," Leonardo said grumpily. He was never very sociable.
"I know, but you still could've taken me with you," Ash complained, wanting to bond with him a little more.
At that moment, Natasha appeared—but she could barely walk straight.
Everyone looked at her in confusion. They all knew she didn't drink—and they knew why.
"Aren't we celebrating? Your father is president again," she said cheerfully, hugging Ash.
They could all smell the alcohol on her.
"Why didn't you tell us about this?" Azra asked angrily. She wasn't happy that Natasha kept hiding things from them—as if she didn't trust them.
"I wanted to surprise you," Natasha replied honestly, sitting beside her.
"Well, you succeeded," Leonardo said proudly, enjoying the show.
He hadn't expected her to vote for her father, but it was entertaining to watch regardless.
"Why are you in such a good mood tonight?" Natasha asked, watching him in confusion. He was usually grumpy, barely spoke to them, and when he did, it was always something cruel.
"We have a small problem. A few demons appeared in the neighboring village. I want you there immediately," Levi said, suddenly appearing beside them.
"You have three minutes to get there." He tossed his car keys to Ash.
"Leonardo's not going—he already had a mission earlier," Levi added, pushing Ash and Azra forward.
"I'm going. I'm not coming back tonight," Leonardo said, standing up as Ash and Azra ran toward the car.
"Ooo," Natasha howled, knowing exactly what that meant. Definitely going to see some girl.
"I'm leaving her with you. Good luck," Leonardo said, clearly pleased that he didn't have to watch over her.
Levi sighed tiredly when he realized she was drunk. She just smiled back at him.
"We're going inside," Levi said. He liked giving orders—and she usually didn't listen.
This time, she followed him without a word.
"Sleep. We have training tomorrow," he ordered, pointing toward the room.
She tried to focus, but everything was doubled.
He sighed and gently pushed her toward the room, laying her down on the bed.
"Lie down. I'll get you some water." He let go once she sat.
"I don't want water." She grabbed his hand, stopping him. Her voice was hoarse—clearly drunk.
Levi knew exactly where this was heading.
"What do you want?" he asked coldly, not even looking at her.
"You," she whispered, letting the alcohol speak for her.
Levi laughed ironically, wondering where she'd found the nerve.
"Don't you think you're being selfish?" He turned away, and she could see she'd angered him.
"You'll use me to distract yourself again, and then tomorrow you'll hate me even more than you already do?" He pulled her hand off him, letting his anger finally speak after years of silence.
Natasha said nothing. She had no defense.
She hated him for seeing her weakness that night.
"Don't play the victim. We both used each other." Her voice and mood shifted as she spoke.
"Yes—but I don't hate you for it," Levi shouted, pointing at her.
Even he didn't understand why he was losing control now, after years of holding it in.
"Liar. You fucking hate me," she yelled, standing up. Once she started, she couldn't stop.
"You think I don't see how you look at me? How you act every time I'm with my father?" She shoved him—and sobered up instantly.
She didn't want their relationship to change. She just wanted Levi to be honest.
Levi watched as she lost control too, hitting him. He was still clear-minded enough to realize he had to leave—this wouldn't end well.
He stepped toward her angrily once she finished shouting.
The look in his eyes changed.
It hurt him that she thought he hated her—when he'd been doing everything he could to protect her all along.
"I'm done with you." He laughed bitterly one last time and shook his head. She could see it—he was giving up.
As he walked away, Natasha realized she'd made a mistake.
She was falling apart because she didn't know what she wanted—or what she was allowed to want.
"Don't turn your back on me." She wanted to say it—but didn't have the courage.
"Ah!" she screamed in frustration, throwing herself onto the bed.
She wanted to beat him again.