The Soles Of Damini Manor

CHAPTER 21: DAMINIRELLA

Kola

"You better find a way to get your friend to quit his lead role, or I promise you I will make the rest of your years in Iroko worse than hell," a dominating voice says from a dark corner next to the auditorium.

I hide behind the pillar until a very flustered Timi walks out of the corner and into the auditorium. Only one ginger can dish out threats without regard for their consequences, and I think it's time to put her in her place. Not by insulting her or putting her down like Kanyin does, but being brutally honest. Someone needs to be honest with her.

Yvonne mutters some curse words as she exits the corner, but the moment she finds me at the auditorium entrance, her signature scowl consumes her facial muscles.

"Hi," I say, my face not betraying me by exposing any emotion unlike hers.

"Don't hi me. I don't fucking like you," she sneers, crossing her arms.

"Trust me, ginger, the feeling is mutual," I say truthfully before striding to be face-to-face with her.

She takes an unconscious step back once she realizes we're the same height. I guess she's used to her preys being shorter and intimidated, but my height seems to be the one doing the intimidating.

"Don't call me ginger," she chides.

I slip my hands into my pockets. "Since we're dishing out orders, why don't you stop being a total mean girl?" I counter.

Her scowl falls, and for the first time, I'm in close proximity to what her actual face looks like without any form of rage. She's stunning with the striking structure of her high cheekbones, flawless dark brown skin, and full plush lips.

"Leave me alone, Damini. I don't want to fight with you right now," she admits, her hands perched on her waist.

"Same. I'm not here to fight. I just want to talk," I say calmly.

She snickers. "God, you're so much like your sister. If you want to talk, just fucking talk. You don't have to make a big deal about-"

"I paid your aunt a visit," I say, shutting her up.

The scowl returns. "You Damini's fuc-"

"I swear if you curse one more time, I will call you ginger for the rest of the year. Don't test me, Yvonne," I warn her sternly.

Her eyes narrow into slits at my audacity, but I can't care less about it.

"While you find your words, I'll get to the point. I know why you hate us, but from what your aunt told me, you only know half the story. To be honest, you chose the half you needed to hear and you rolled with it," I tell her.

She stays silent, fists clenched, so I continue.

"Yvonne, I think you needed a reason to be angry. You needed someone to pour all that rage and grief you had after your Mom died, and you chose us. My mother and grandmother had nothing to do with your Mom's death. Your Mom chose her fate once she joined the Ebonies. She chose her fate when she decided to steal Madam K's heel. They all did, including my Mom. And I get that you're sad, but at least you have an outcome. I wake up every morning with what-ifs. It's worst not knowing my Mom's fate, and I'm not downplaying your feelings, but if you want to grieve and rage so badly, then let it all out...to the void, not to other people," I finish, my gaze pinned on her as I assess her stunned reaction.

"Uhm..." she takes a deep breathe. "I'll see you inside," she says softly, not acting like herself.

As she grabs the door handle to the auditorium, I grab her hand, stopping her.