“Honey, you’re hurt. Just put the gun down, Scarlet. We can sort everything out. You don’t have to marry anyone you don’t want to, I promise,” my father says, voice placating me, but even with death pointed at him, he still can’t hide his condescension. Even then, I knew I’d never be anything more than a tool to grow the family’s influence for him. I cock the gun. “Oh, this? Don’t worry. The blood’s not mine. Your son made quite the mess when he died.”
