Sugar Daddy
sug·ar dad·dynoun informal. a wealthy, middle-aged man who spends freely on a young woman in return for her companionship or intimacy.-----Word after word that flowed from his lips angered me more by the second. My patience was running out and my temper was flaring. Rage boiled through my blood. I barely had a chance to think of my actions. The only thought running through my head was getting him to shut up. I pursed my lips and raised my hand back. I threw my hand forward as hard as I could, whipping it across his face. The crack of skin contacting skin echoed off the walls. Vibrations of pain started in my palm and spread all the way to my fingertips. My palm was bright red, the same red mark that matched the one on his face. He stared at me with his eyes wide as his hand slowly made it to his fire red cheek. I should've felt some kind of remorse. But I didn't. Not one organ in my body could produce guilt for my actions. A triumphant grin spread across my face and with a flick of my hair, but it quickly fled as I felt something as hard as a brick make contact with my nose. I wasn’t sure what had occurred after, but I do know wet blobs escaped my wide eyes, and the exact wide eyes had rolled back into my head. The pain was excruciating, it felt as if my own father punched me, and my eldest brother stared at me, a smirk at his lips. Oh wait, how silly of me, that’s exactly what happened. Some of you may be wondering what had occurred for me to slap my own father. I’ll gladly tell you, after I get my revenge. And that my fellow readers, is exactly what I plan to do. My name is Diana Chanel Faye, and this is my story of sweet, sweet, revenge. You’re in for one heck of a doozy.…
