Emerald Eyes

Chapter 7 - The Fallout

The foyer of Liam's mansion is a blur of emotions as I rush into my mother's arms. All the fear and pain I was holding inside for so many days finally has a release.

Her familiar scent, a blend of lavender and honey, envelops me like a warm embrace, my sobs echoing through the vast mansion space.

"You're safe. I'm so glad you're safe, Mom." The tears stream down my face, mixing with hers.

"Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?"

I shake my head no.

We embrace each other tightly, trembling with relief and pent up emotion.

Liam walks inside, his steps silent as a panther's, and my Mom's body stiffens in reaction. He simply watches us, a mix of concern and compassion on his face.

I can tell he senses this is a moment of mother-daughter reunion, and I nod at him in a silent thank you.

"Kieran will be arriving soon," he says, a tone of warning in his voice. "I'll be right outside."

He steps back, offering us privacy, but not before giving me yet another once-over-look to make sure I'm safe.

I look up at Liam too, my eyes still filled with tears, and there's a depth of understanding in his emerald green eyes I've never seen before.

"Alexandra." Mom's hardened voice interrupts my thoughts. "We don't have much time. Let us sit."

My heart slams against the ribcage as my mother's expression becomes an unreadable mold.

I am relieved she is free. But not looking forward to what comes next.

The talk.

Her once vibrant skin is now pale and drawn, her dark eyes hollowed with exhaustion. Yet a spark of defiance flickers in her gaze as she leans into the deep cushions of the plush emerald green settee.

This is not going to be a pleasant conversation.

I dig my feet into a thick lush rug, whose rich colors and intricate patterns complement the marble flooring.

The grandfather's clock continues its deafening march toward the half hour.

"We don't have much time so I'll go first, and be done with it, nene." I use the cold, formal way to say 'mother' in Albanian. "I know everything. Liam showed me your marriage certificate." I dig my nails deep into my palms, leaving half-moon-shaped scars. Akin to the scars on his back, those ugly painful cuts and horrifying burns. "I have only one question. Why?"

"If you know everything, then why bother asking?" Her lips are pressed into a thin line, her posture erect despite her weakness.

An ember of anger sparks to life inside me.

"Because I want you to confirm it! What you did, Mom, was morally wrong.

How could you do that?" I force air past my tight chest. "Did you consider me so weak you had to hide who my father is from me?"

"Don't be dramatic, Alexandra," she snaps. "Every mother would have done the same. Your father isn't just anyone. He is a lead Irish mafia mobster. Do you know what being Kieran's daughter means? It means inheriting his entire business. It means being targeted by others who want the same coveted position, even if they pretend to respect you. You would have been living a lie."

"I am not interested in inheriting his business. You hid my father's name because of a few whispers behind my back?" I ask disbelievingly. "Have you never stopped to think I had the right to know?"