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The hurt in her voice cuts through me. I want to go back to a time when I loved my honest mother… but I know that’s not possible. She is gone, along with the fantasy life I had.
“Who?” I snap.
“Joshua,” she whispers as I hear the tears in her voice.
“Who?” I yell, unable to control my anger.
“It doesn’t matter,” she sobs.
“I know who!” I yell.
“What?” she whispers.
“James fucking Brennan!” I scream and Cameron puts his head into his hands, unable to handle this situation.
She starts to cry. “Please, Joshua, I’m begging you. You can’t tell your father.”
Contempt and hate fill my every cell. “Which one are you talking about, you dirty whore?” I sneer.
She sobs loudly and Cameron walks out of the room, obviously unable to handle this conversation.
She stays silent on the phone as she tries to compose herself. “Both,” she whispers.
I close my eyes as the hatred starts to drip feed into my bloodstream. I feel the cold of the poison start to pump through me.
“Let me get this straight?” I sit back on my chair and swivel as I think. “You continually slept with your husband’s best friend and one of your best friends’ husband for over seven years.”
She stays silent.
“And you had two of his children,” I sneer.
She still stays silent.
“And now you give him my fucking money!” I scream.
She starts to cry. “Joshua, how do you know that? Please calm down.”
I swivel on my chair. “You have twenty-four hours to tell Dad, Wilson and Scott.”
“Joshua please?” she begs.
“This time tomorrow I ring them all!” I scream and hang up furiously.
I sit at my desk with my heart pumping hard in my chest. Never have I been so enraged. So hurt. I feel sick to my stomach.
Cameron walks back in, quietly closes the door behind him and sits down on the chair at my desk. His haunted eyes meet mine. “Did you have to call her a whore?” he growls. “I don’t want you speaking to her like that.”
“If the name fits,” I mutter under my breath. I take out my phone and scroll though my contact list until I get to a name that I now despise: James Brennan.
I dial the number and it rings.
“James Brennan,” he answers. My eyes narrow. I have only ever had respect for this man… yet another lie in my pitiful life.
“This is Joshua Stanton,” I reply.
“Hello Joshua,” he says jovially. “To what do I owe this pleasure, young man?”
“You have seven days to repay my six million dollars or I am going to the police to have you charged with blackmail,” I sneer.
