Page 147
Story: Grumpy Boss of the Year
Chapter Thirty-Three
Elisabetta
"What are you talking about?" I stare at Liam and shake my head. "Are you kidding? What's going on here?" I press my lips against his, but his body is tense, and his eyes are hooded. "This isn't some weird sort of joke." I shift back from him quickly. My entire body is cold. "Wait, what did you just say? Are you being serious?"
"Your mother is not dead."
His words are stilted, and I can tell that he's not saying everything. "What are you talking about? How long have you known this? I'm so confused. What?"
"When I initially started talking with your father, before I even met you, I had some investigators do some research because I always like to know who I'm getting into business with. One of my investigators found out that your father visits someone in a sanitarium here almost daily, and he was almost positive that it was your mother. We had further research done and"—he runs his fingers through his hair as my heart is breaking—"it's been confirmed that it is your mother. Your mother is still alive."
I'm speechless. I don't know what to say. I don't know how to react. I can tell by the look on Liam's face that he's being honest. I can tell that he's pained, but the pain in my own heart is nothing compared to his. "How long have you known?" My voice cracks. "Did you just find out today?" I pray to God that he only found out today. I pray to God that he hasn't been keeping this a secret from me. He shakes his head. I can feel tears in my eyes, but I try to stay strong. I do not want to cry in front of him.
"I'm sorry, Elisabetta."
"Don't touch me," I say as he reaches out for me. I stare at him in shock. "This handsome man who I have fallen for is a liar. My mother is alive, and you didn't tell me. All those times I spoke to you, and you didn't tell me."
"I'm an ass." He nods.
"Why?"
"Your father told me that if I breathe one word to you, the deal would be off." He presses his lips together. "I'm not proud of myself. I know that."
"Yet again, business and money came before me and my feelings and my life. Do you understand, Liam? My mother, who I thought has been dead for over twenty years, has not been in my life and she could have been. I don't understand what is going on. Why? Where is she? Why did my father lie to me?"
"I don't know all the facts," he says, shaking his head. "From what I gathered, she has a mental health illness that requires her to be contained for her own safety." He stares at me. "The investigator says she tried to harm you, and she begged your father in a moment of lucidity to lock her away to ensure that she wasn't successful, and your father, because he loved her, decided he couldn't be away from her, and that's why he's been in Italy."
"So he's not in the mafia," I say, rolling my eyes.
"No, I don't think he's in the mafia," he says."You would have to speak to him about the details. I don't really knoweverything. That's just what my investigator has been able to gather. I'm sorry. I know I should have told you why. I love you. I?—"
"You don't get to say that to me." I stare at him. "You don't get to tell me that you love me. You don't get to touch me. You don't get to kiss me. You don't get to be with me. How can I ever trust that I mean anything to you? How can I ever trust that what we have is real? You deceived me. You?—"
"I'm sorry. I honestly thought it was for the best that you didn't know. I mean, I?—"
"Liam, be honest with me here. Did you not tell me because you thought I wouldn't want to know, or did you not tell me because you thought my father would end the deal with you?"
His eyes look bleak, and he turns away from me, and that's all I need to know.
"I want you to leave now, please.”
“Please let me?—.”
“Let you fuck, lie, console me some more? Is that what you want? You want another fuck before you leave?" I stare at him. "Just get out. Please, get out, Liam. I'm done. I am over you, okay? It's done."
"I understand why you're hurt and upset and?—"
"You don't understand anything. Did you grow up thinking that your mother was dead? Did you grow up crying, wishing you had someone in your life who actually loved you, who was there for you, only to find out that your mother was alive all along? Liam, listen to yourself. If you really loved me, if you really cared about me, you would've told me as soon as you found out. How many times have I spoken to you about my mom?" The tears burst free. I can't control myself. I'm sobbing. I'm sobbing and sobbing. My entire body feels like it's going to break apart.
"I'm sorry," he says.
"Don't," I say as he pulls me into his arms.
"Please just let me console you."
And because I don't want to be alone, I let him hold me close. He strokes my hair and holds me tight. His body is warm and hard and soft all at the same time, and I cry big ugly tears. Snot rolls out of my nose. My eyes feel like they are never going to stop weeping. My entire body shakes as I think about the years that have gone by, the years of pain, the years of abandonment, and the lies. "Is my father, my father?" I look at him. "Was I right about that?"
"I believe your father is really your father," he says softly, cradling the back of my neck.
Elisabetta
"What are you talking about?" I stare at Liam and shake my head. "Are you kidding? What's going on here?" I press my lips against his, but his body is tense, and his eyes are hooded. "This isn't some weird sort of joke." I shift back from him quickly. My entire body is cold. "Wait, what did you just say? Are you being serious?"
"Your mother is not dead."
His words are stilted, and I can tell that he's not saying everything. "What are you talking about? How long have you known this? I'm so confused. What?"
"When I initially started talking with your father, before I even met you, I had some investigators do some research because I always like to know who I'm getting into business with. One of my investigators found out that your father visits someone in a sanitarium here almost daily, and he was almost positive that it was your mother. We had further research done and"—he runs his fingers through his hair as my heart is breaking—"it's been confirmed that it is your mother. Your mother is still alive."
I'm speechless. I don't know what to say. I don't know how to react. I can tell by the look on Liam's face that he's being honest. I can tell that he's pained, but the pain in my own heart is nothing compared to his. "How long have you known?" My voice cracks. "Did you just find out today?" I pray to God that he only found out today. I pray to God that he hasn't been keeping this a secret from me. He shakes his head. I can feel tears in my eyes, but I try to stay strong. I do not want to cry in front of him.
"I'm sorry, Elisabetta."
"Don't touch me," I say as he reaches out for me. I stare at him in shock. "This handsome man who I have fallen for is a liar. My mother is alive, and you didn't tell me. All those times I spoke to you, and you didn't tell me."
"I'm an ass." He nods.
"Why?"
"Your father told me that if I breathe one word to you, the deal would be off." He presses his lips together. "I'm not proud of myself. I know that."
"Yet again, business and money came before me and my feelings and my life. Do you understand, Liam? My mother, who I thought has been dead for over twenty years, has not been in my life and she could have been. I don't understand what is going on. Why? Where is she? Why did my father lie to me?"
"I don't know all the facts," he says, shaking his head. "From what I gathered, she has a mental health illness that requires her to be contained for her own safety." He stares at me. "The investigator says she tried to harm you, and she begged your father in a moment of lucidity to lock her away to ensure that she wasn't successful, and your father, because he loved her, decided he couldn't be away from her, and that's why he's been in Italy."
"So he's not in the mafia," I say, rolling my eyes.
"No, I don't think he's in the mafia," he says."You would have to speak to him about the details. I don't really knoweverything. That's just what my investigator has been able to gather. I'm sorry. I know I should have told you why. I love you. I?—"
"You don't get to say that to me." I stare at him. "You don't get to tell me that you love me. You don't get to touch me. You don't get to kiss me. You don't get to be with me. How can I ever trust that I mean anything to you? How can I ever trust that what we have is real? You deceived me. You?—"
"I'm sorry. I honestly thought it was for the best that you didn't know. I mean, I?—"
"Liam, be honest with me here. Did you not tell me because you thought I wouldn't want to know, or did you not tell me because you thought my father would end the deal with you?"
His eyes look bleak, and he turns away from me, and that's all I need to know.
"I want you to leave now, please.”
“Please let me?—.”
“Let you fuck, lie, console me some more? Is that what you want? You want another fuck before you leave?" I stare at him. "Just get out. Please, get out, Liam. I'm done. I am over you, okay? It's done."
"I understand why you're hurt and upset and?—"
"You don't understand anything. Did you grow up thinking that your mother was dead? Did you grow up crying, wishing you had someone in your life who actually loved you, who was there for you, only to find out that your mother was alive all along? Liam, listen to yourself. If you really loved me, if you really cared about me, you would've told me as soon as you found out. How many times have I spoken to you about my mom?" The tears burst free. I can't control myself. I'm sobbing. I'm sobbing and sobbing. My entire body feels like it's going to break apart.
"I'm sorry," he says.
"Don't," I say as he pulls me into his arms.
"Please just let me console you."
And because I don't want to be alone, I let him hold me close. He strokes my hair and holds me tight. His body is warm and hard and soft all at the same time, and I cry big ugly tears. Snot rolls out of my nose. My eyes feel like they are never going to stop weeping. My entire body shakes as I think about the years that have gone by, the years of pain, the years of abandonment, and the lies. "Is my father, my father?" I look at him. "Was I right about that?"
"I believe your father is really your father," he says softly, cradling the back of my neck.
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