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“When your mother fell pregnant, it wasn’t through choice.”
“I was a mistake?”
My eyes are wide and my heart racing as I face the fact my conception was one big catastrophic bad decision.
“No, little one. You were not planned, and your mom wasn’t mentally strong enough to care for you.”
“But what about my grandparents? Couldn’t they do the job and what about my father? Where does he fit in?”
From the expression in Adonis’s eye, I am not going to like this, and he says with a grimace, “Your father was dead before you were born, and your mom believed you died at birth.”
“So, she was never given the chance to care for me.” I vaguely note the tears running like a wretched river down my face as the devastating revelation about my birth comes back to bite me and Adonis appears agitated as he swears and says under his breath, “Fuck this shit.”
Then he exhales sharply and says in a harsh voice, “Your mom was the victim of a gang rape at a frat party. Your grandfather made sure none of them survived. Your mom was mentally disturbed by the whole episode and didn’t want anything to do with you. She wasn’t well, Laura and your grandparents feared for your safety, so they took steps to protect you from her. They told her you died at birth and arranged your adoption, and they were right to do it.”
“Why?” My voice doesn’t sound like my own as I learn the devastating truth of my creation and Adonis says softly, “Because family means everything to a Vieri, but not to your mom it seemed. She tried to take revenge against her family for ruining her life and plotted to murder them all.”
“What happened to her?” I’m not even sure why I care because she sounds like a person I need to know nothing about and Adonis shrugs and says simply, “They got there first.”
He turns away and resumes his cooking, leaving me to deal with the truth bomb he exploded inside my once perfect world.
CHAPTER 24
TROY
It’s unusual for me to have breakfast with my family. Mom and Melissa are sitting in their usual places and only Max’s seat is empty. He is out of town currently and couldn’t be here, but I know he cares. We all do, which is why this is so important. To make sure mom is cared for will always be the most important item on my agenda and there was never any question I wouldn’t be checking this place out today.
Mrs. Carlton brings in more coffee and says politely, “Sir, your assistant has arrived.”
“Where is she?”
I don’t miss Melissa’s amused grin and pointedly ignore her.
“In the kitchen with Charlie, sir.”
Fuck. I can just picture them now, chatting shit and getting on, inevitably ending up with Mrs. Carlton’s son Charlie asking her out on a date, so I say roughly, “Show her in. She can take Harrison’s seat.”
Melissa raises her eyes and mom says with interest, “Do we have a visitor? How wonderful.”
“She’s just staff, mom.”
“Staff?” Mom stares at me in confusion. “But you have invited her to breakfast.”
Melissa throws me a warning glare and says flippantly, “Laura is a little more than staff, mom. Troy just won’t admit that.”
I watch the impudent sparkle alight mom’s eyes and it makes me smile. If that makes her happy, who am I to make her smile fade, so I shrug. “She is, well–” I’m struggling to say what she is because I’m aware I need to swing this around to suit my plans and it’s actually not a bad idea to elevate her position.
I’ve thought a lot about my plans for Laura Kincaid and making her into my perfect woman is high on the list. It would suit me to have a permanent accessory on my arm who knows her place. Introducing her to my family is the first step in that, so I say carefully, “She is, well, more than that.”
I’m aware we are no longer alone and as I glance up I see Laura standing in the doorway looking fucking terrible. Her eyes are puffy and she’s wearing the same outfit as yesterday, which alarms me. Did she even make it home last night?
Melissa catches my eye, and I can tell she is concerned and the smile on my mom’s face is a little confused as we stare at the woman who appears to have been dragged here.
“Excuse me for a moment.” I push back my chair and head toward her and, grasping her arm, propel her from the room into the hallway.
I don’t even speak and guide her toward my den and as soon as the door closes, I say gently, “Take a seat, Laura. Tell me what happened?”
“What?” She appears in a daze, and I’m now really concerned, especially when her eyes fill with tears, and she attempts to brush them away with her fingers.
