“Beg me.” Kendra laughed, covering her mouth. “Kneel, apologize three times. Slap your own face while you say, ‘Kendra, I was wrong. I shouldn’t have tried to steal Willard from you. I’m nothing but a delusional bitch.’ Maybe then I’ll be in a good mood and tell Willard to kick a nobody like you out.”
Daisie gripped the sheet until her nails bit into her flesh.
Kendra scoffed. “What? You’re not willing? Looks like you still haven’t faced your situation. What do you have left? No home, your father is dead, your mother is disabled, your brother is in prison, and you’ve lost a kidney. You’re literally a complete waste.”
“If you stay in the Granthams’ place, you’ll be my punching bag, my mobile blood bank, my organ reserve. I’ll use you how I please. Willard will only help me; he won’t spare you a glance!”
She rose, walked to the window and stared out with a lightness that made Daisie’s blood boil.
“Oh, by the way, I forgot to tell you. Those gambling debts your brother had? I arranged that trap. Your father’s company goes bankrupt—I had people mess with it. As for your mother, the driver who hit her and put her in the hospital—I hired and paid him.”