Promised pain

Four

Lorenzo Petrov
"If she wants to leave the house, tell me." It's nothing about being controlling, but that's the main point behind her staying here, being well protected.

I stroll outside. Shooting off the engine as I ignore the racing thoughts inside of my mind, another day down, which means that another bastard will be brought to me at work.

I will owe Rio a lot for what he's doing, but I'm willing to pay all of it off if it means that I'll finally know the truth of what happened, what happened that night years ago.

When we were on that ship, with my parents, my biological ones, I'm not even sure they deserve that term but whatever, whenever my mind goes back to that night, chilling shivers run across my spine.

And my whole body seems to react in a way that I've never been felt before, as if I'm on survival mode, it's pathetic. My phone's notification sound stops my thoughts and I'm thankful.

But the text I see isn't a cheerful one either, it's one that makes guilt linger at the bottom of my stomach as I read my mother's words through the Lock Screen.

If you're free, call me tonight, it's been so long since I heard your voice.

And it has, it's been months since I visited them, and I've been distracted lately, I haven't called exactly, I clench my jaw as frustration and self hatred rises up my throat, clamping it shut.

I park inside the company's garage and get out, grabbing my phone hurriedly as I stroll upstairs, minutes pass and I'm finally in my office, I've been working here for years, I was taught early on, now I'm the main boss.

This is one of uncle Alexander's many companies that he owns, which is why i was the perfect choice to make his daughter under my protection, considering that he can fire me at any possible moment.

And even though he won't admit that in the near future, I'm a lot better than most of the bosses sprawled around his companies, nothing about narcissism, just well aware.

I sit on my chair, lock the door and retrieve my phone, trying to push away the sudden lapse of reminder in my mind, scroll through my contacts and it doesn't take long before I find mom's number.

I click on it, my heart skips a beat and I breathe in, she answers on the second ring. "You called." Her voice is hard as it has always been, but her words are soft, as if she's stopping herself from overwhelming me with her emotions.

"Yeah—I saw your text." I pinch my eyes in regret, guilt eating up my body, "Is everything okay?" She asks swiftly. And not being able to scan her features for any emotion is not making this easier.

"Yes." I hate lying to her, but it's necessary, I have no way out, I tried for years to sway their perspective on this matter and it never worked, and I understood the reason behind it.

"I'll let it pass." She easily catches up on the lie, "How's everything?" I switch the topic, and she sighs when she realizes that she won't get an answer, "It's fine, I'll wait for you to come by on my birthday." She demands, I smile.

"I miss you, mom." I say gently, "Me too." I smile further, "Okay, I don't want to distract you, go back to whatever you're doing." She sighs.

"Tell dad I said hi." I offer lightly and I can hear her smiling as she speaks, "Your dad heard all this conversation, honey." She laughs, and my tense muscles relax at the sound, "He did?" I raise an eyebrow.

"I did, you idiot." He offers dryly, his rough accented voice spreads a familiar sense of comfort through my body even when I'm at that age, "Well, hello." I offer dryly, "Hello." He matches the same tone.