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Baring my teeth, I raise my voice, questioning her failed marks and the call from her academic advisor. It becomes all the more evident as I stare into my oldest daughter’s eyes that someone else is behind this behavior of hers.
Someone is pulling her away from everything she worked hard for.
And away from her family.
Then, she raises her voice back, disrespecting me with her angered words until she basically tells me to fuck right off. The second she disappears into the elevator, Zuckerman’s words replay, “Romano fucks your daughter.”
The voices are unable to shut off, scenario after scenario playing in my head—Will’s decline in his performance of late and his head elsewhere in meetings. Before Christmas, we attended the gala, where he claimed he had an emergency, almost costing him a client.
His quick acceptance to visit LA and stay in my home.
Then there’s Amelia’s unusual behavior. The constant visits to the city, schoolwork falling behind, and the break-up with Austin, to name another thing.
Zuckerman can’t be correct.
But then, I remember their argument as the elevator pinged open. This was more than a lost wallet at hand. And then she blamed me for controlling her life, her outburst completely disrespectful and uncalled for. This isn’t the daughter I raised. This is a woman who’s consumed by a man, a man who should be off-limits, who took advantage of our family ties, used me to get close to her, and then did what?
Don’t say it. Don’t repeat what Zuckerman said.
I turn back to enter the elevator, fury springing to life when the doors close, trapping me in my personal hell. My pulse begins to race, muscles quivering, the beat of my heart loud as a drum with an urge to smash my fist against the mirror inside the confined space.
Each passing second feels like an hour. Then the door opens up to the ground floor. With sweaty palms, I yank my phone out of my pocket to call Charlotte.
“Lex,” Charlotte huffs over the receiver. “I need to step into a meeting with a client. I’ll call you back in an hour?”
I can’t speak. My chest so tight then even words are trapped, unable to form a coherent sentence.
“Lex? Hello, are you still there?”
“I’m here,” I bellow.
“What’s wrong?”
“Did you know that Will and our daughter are an item?”
“Lex, what are you talking about? Listen, I don’t have time for your assumptions.”
My nostrils begin to flare like a wild animal staring at its prey.
“Did you know, Charlotte?”
Charlotte releases a breath. “Lex, Amelia is going through something, I’ll admit. But a relationship with Will? That’s ridiculous. He’s family.”
“Will you just listen to me, Charlotte!” I demand, anger pouring through me like molten hot lava. “They’ve both been lying to us. Amelia is falling behind in her schoolwork, spending all her time in the city, and Will is distracted at work. Every time they’ve been in a room together, there was this odd behavior, yet I passed it off as nothing.”
“So, what, Lex? That doesn’t mean anything is going on.”
“No, Charlotte,” I beg of her to listen. “You don’t understand. I just saw them.”
“Doing what?”
“They were…” I clear my throat, closing my eyes momentarily. “They were arguing. She was here, in this building. She lied to my face about why she was here, and I could see it in her eyes. Don’t you see? She’s been pushing you away because she knew we’d figure it out.”
“Lex,” her voice wavers, “She’s pushing me away because she no longer needs me. She’s an adult, now.”
“No, Charlotte. You’re wrong. She’s pushing you away because it’s easier to do that than lie to your face,” I tell her brutally.
The line goes quiet, and all but Charlotte’s heavy breathing can be heard.
