Bye Loser! Love, Daddy's Heiress - Chapter 15: Chapter 15

ALESSIA'S POV
I was done playing nice.
Pearl had taken everything from me—my future, my name, my status. And now? That bitch was parading around like she owned the world, soaking up the attention of every powerful man in the industry, Lothario included. No. I wouldn't let that stand. Did she really think she could humiliate me? Turn Lothario against me? Make me look like some desperate fraud in front of the entire business world? She had no idea who she was messing with.
So I did what any woman with a spine would do—I took control. And it was almost too easy. One call to a contact at the hotel, a discreet bribe to one of Pearl's bodyguards, and just like that, the untouchable Cressida Lancaster—or should I say, Pearl Anderson—was alone. She never saw it coming. One second, she was strutting through the underground parking lot, heels clicking, phone in hand, radiating that infuriating confidence. The next? A cloth over her mouth, a brief struggle, then darkness. Sweet dreams, bitch.
I used to have it all. Men worshipped me. Women envied me. The world believed I was Alexander Anderson's golden daughter. His name was my ticket to everything—modeling contracts, exclusive brand deals, invites to the most elite events. I didn't have to earn respect; it was handed to me. And then she ruined it.
Pearl. That meek little shadow who used to trail behind Lothario like a lost puppy. I never saw her as a threat—why would I? She was nothing compared to me. But now? She had everything I wanted, and I was left with nothing.
I spat onto the grimy floor of the abandoned warehouse, pacing as my heels echoed against the concrete. The air reeked of rust and stale gasoline, the flickering overhead lights casting jagged shadows. The thugs I'd hired had done their job well. Pearl sat slumped in a chair, bound, beaten, her once-pristine dress now torn and filthy.
Lothario sat across from her, wrists tied behind his back, blood trickling from his split lip. His designer suit—probably worth more than these thugs made in a lifetime—was crumpled and ruined. His head hung slightly, but I knew he wasn't unconscious. No, the bastard was just waiting. Watching. I smirked.
"You two look adorable together," I purred, tapping my heel against the concrete. "Tragic, really. A love story that ends in blood."
Pearl lifted her head, lips curling in disgust. "Alessia," she rasped. "Still as pathetic as ever, I see."
I laughed. Oh, the audacity of this bitch.
"You think you're funny?" I stepped closer, gripping her chin hard enough to bruise. "You're only alive because I let you live this long. If it weren't for me, you'd still be Lothario's doormat, cleaning up his messes while he fucked me on satin sheets."
Her expression didn't change. No fear. No reaction. Nothing. It made my blood boil.
"Where's your precious daddy now, Pearl?" I sneered, jerking her head back. "You think Alexander can save you? You think your power means anything when you're tied to a chair in the middle of nowhere?"
She smiled. That icy, knowing smile that sent a chill down my spine.
"You think I'm the one who's trapped here?" she murmured.
I slapped her so hard my palm burned. "Shut up!"
She let out a soft laugh, like she'd already won. I wanted to claw that smirk off her face.
"You don't get it, do you?" I hissed, leaning in. "You stole everything from me. Do you know what it's like to build a life on a lie? To spend years believing you were meant for greatness, only to find out you're just another disposable bitch?"
Pearl didn't answer. She just stared at me like I was already dead. I hated it.
I whirled on Lothario, my rage shifting to him. "And you," I spat. "You disgust me. You should be on your knees thanking me. I came back to you. After everything, I was willing to forgive you, to love you again—and what did you do?"
He lifted his head, blood streaking his jaw. His eyes—cold, sharp, deadly—locked onto mine.
"You used me, Alessia," he said, voice low and dangerous. "You used everyone. And now you're just mad you got caught."
I screamed, snatching a knife from the table.
"You don't get to judge me!" I shrieked. "Men do this all the time—use women, throw them away like trash—but when a woman does it, suddenly she's a monster? Fuck that!"
My hands shook. Pearl exhaled softly, watching me like I was a rabid animal about to snap. And maybe I was.
I tightened my grip on the knife. "Which one of you should I kill first, huh?" I mused, tilting my head. "Pearl? Or Lothario? Maybe I'll do it at the same time. One clean slice across both your throats."
Pearl didn't even flinch. "You don't have the guts."
Oh, I ached to prove her wrong.
I raised the knife—
The doors burst open. Men stormed in. Taurus Sullivan. Shit.
Pearl's lips curved into a slow, victorious smirk. "You should've planned better."
My heart hammered as Taurus moved through the warehouse like a predator, his face a mask of fury. His men fanned out, guns drawn. Before I could react, Pearl moved.
I expected weakness. Fear. Instead, the bitch ripped free from the ropes—how?!—and lunged.
Pain exploded across my jaw as her fist connected, sending me stumbling back. I barely caught myself before she kicked the knife from my hand. No. No, no, no!
I clawed at her, nails digging into her arm, but she shoved me hard. I crashed into the table, the world spinning. Desperation clawed at my throat.
I grabbed the knife from the floor and lunged. Pearl sidestepped. I swung again, breath ragged, vision blurred with fury.
A blur of movement. A sharp gasp.
And suddenly—Lothario was there.
The knife plunged deep into his abdomen.
No.