The door to her prison clicked open whilst she was clinging lightly to a sort of sleep. When Ivanna remembered exactly where she was, she bolted to a sitting position, eyes darting to the figure in the doorway. When she found it to be anything other than Asia-shaped, she rolled back over and slipped beneath the covers dismissively.
"Miss Vayas."
She grumbled discontentedly and waved the person away, trying to let the feeling of rest lull her eyelids back to their state of heaviness. When the sound of a can thwacked twice on the ground near her sofa, irritation filled her. She recognised that sound and she knew all too well who was standing behind her. She rose dangerously fast, throwing the covers from her body and standing until her eyes were directly across from the elderly man.
"What the hell do you want, Melkior?"
The old man held no emotion on his wrinkled face and he shrugged at her antics, seemingly bored by them.
"It's Mister Alvarsson, dear."
Ivanna scoffed, wishing she could set him on fire where he stood.
"Oh because you of all people are definitely a family man."
The venom in her words was not lost on the man as he tried to recall the last time anyone had dared to speak to him in such a manner. He contemplated slapping the girl, surely it could correct her attitude. Though he decided it wasn't worth the movement and he boredly looked at the girl's face.
"You've been telling Asia not to do as I say."
Ivanna's face showed far more pride than remorse as she crossed her arms in front of her. It was strange, Melkior decided. Within the confines of this room, he had every advantage. He could do anything, anything at all to this woman and nobody would be able to stop him. She was a brave, stupid little thing.
"Well I'll have to ask that you stop. One way or another, I will have what I require of her. You are only slowing the inevitable."
Ivanna clenched her fists as she prayed to Mother Mary for the strength not to start beating down on Melkior where he stood. But oh how badly she wanted to harm him.
"FUCK you, Melkior. FUCK what you want from Asia. Also FUCK anything you have to say to me about what my wife and I discuss in private."
"Future-wife."
The audacity of him to correct a semantic in such a moment left her entirely aghast and exasperated. His blatant narcissism and apathy was disgusting to her. So much so that her skin crawled and the vein at her forehead popped dangerously. Ivanna was certain that the man had no idea just how badly she could hurt him.
"Darling, if you continue to irk me, she may never become your wife."
Ivanna's hand flew on reflex, physically unable to stop until she had slapped the man so fiercely his cheek began to sting and turn red. When she realised what she had done, her face fell a little pale. For one, he could retaliate. Though more worrying to Ivanna was how Asia would react if she learned that Ivanna had bitch-slapped her father.
The anxiety in her chest fell to complete horror as Melkior looked back to her, smiling in an open and deranged sort of way. He grabbed Ivanna by her throat tightly, forefinger tracing the area where he knew her trachea to be and he pushed down until her eyes started to water. Ivanna felt her whole body go cold with fear and the metal pushing into her skin from Melkior's hands was doing little to dissuade the feeling.
"You know, Ivanna, I actually like you."
His words prompted only deeper horror and hatred as his hands held firm about her neck and his smile widened.
"You've got spirit. Youth. Fire. It's a nice look on you."
The hair on her arms rose at the implications of his words as she tried to struggle beneath his firm hold.
"I have no problem with my daughter marrying you. I need only one small favour from her and I will leave the both of you to your devices."
That he could stand there and refer to what he was asking as a small favour was the gravest insult and Ivanna could never hope to rid herself of the cold and logical way he had said it. As though he were asking for two sugar cubes in his tea.
"Still, you are an entertainingly murderous little creature."
He let go of the woman, pushing her in such a way that she fell backwards onto the sofa and turned on his heel, moving out of the room with the ever ticking clack of the cane beneath him. When the door shut, the lights shut off again, leaving a gasping Ivanna alone in the dark.
Ivanna's chest burned as though someone had flicked a match into it. Half of it had to do with the matter of Melkior choking her but the other half was a searing and dangerous sort of rage. Ivanna had never been so angry before in her life.
She was so angry that she could die.
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