The Under Boss's Ballerina [18+]

48

Three things:

1.  I'm not making Blaire the bad guy. Though it might seem so. But I am not.

2. Please do not ask me about Blaire's book. I've said this time and time again that right now I am working on this book. I don't know when I'll he able to focus on that.

3. I don't have any five year old friend, so if Belle's behavior seem like a bit too not like a five year old, I'm sorry.

"Your disappearance- it- it affected your mama and I in an unexpected way." Papa says sipping his espresso sitting on the club chair in his office.

"Princess, the situation pushed us away and brought us closer at the same time." He sighs. "A year after you left, mama and I welcomed Belle. I thought it would heal us. It would heal your mama from the loss she felt way too much."

I look at the flower arrangement placed on the coffee table.

Unlike the glass jars I had at home this wasn't clear. Made of fine China, it blended with the old theme of the library like room.

"Belle made us feel your absence more than she made her presence known. Mama and I, we were left out from your childhood, you teen age, not paying attention to what you were going through and what passed through you as a result, amore mio." He added. "Mama and I separated shortly after Belle's birth."

I look at him, for the first time in thirty minutes since we started talking.

Since he started talking, rather.

"It was too much for her and I to cope with the loss of you and beginning of Belle." He apologetically says.

"Mama quit her designing things and focused on Belle after the divorce. I rarely see the pair of them."

"Yesterday at the showroom when you saw mama, it was her first collection launch after almost six years." Papa replied. "To say she blamed herself for your disappearance would be putting it lightly, she fell into a pit of darkness after, duckling."

"I wasn't hiding." I reply to his explanation.

My father looks up at me.

"I- I really wasn't hiding." I repeat. "For a year after leaving, I was in Florence. Then to Rome. Then to Venice and finally Naples- I wasn't hiding."

My father sighs.

"Papa- papa, if you really tried and if it hurt you that much- why didn't you look?" I ask. "Why didn't you look for me? Why didn't you ever tried to contact me?"

"I was angry at you, princess." He replies.

I scoff.

"I was angry, that you felt the need to leave your home. I felt beyond raged when I found out that my daughter- my little girl had left, throwing a handful of dirt in my eyes." He says.