Page 26 of Off-Limits Bad Boy Protector

“What on earth is…”

"Quiet. Please, take a seat!" The figure whispered.

There was no doubt about it now. It was definitely a woman, and I wasn’t sure whether to be more concerned or less afraid. Holding his arm, my small palms barely wrapping around his bicep, I led him towards the chairs. Up-close, I could see that one was a worn leather armchair and the other which I led him to be an old wooden chair.

I rolled my eyes in irritation before flinging my hands from her grip and sitting down. “If you’re going to make me sit on this stupid chair just to feel more powerful then, you clearly aren’t.

Let’s wrap this up!” I quipped, twirling my index finger in the air. She said nothing and only proceeded to move to sit on her chair. I strained my eyes to observe her frame in the darkness. She seemed pretty sturdy. She wore huge black pants and a large hoodie. It hung over her face and hid her true frame.

I dropped into the chair and leaned in. Who are you, anyway? Why all the mind games? What's with the phone call and what do you want from me? I fired off the questions, already beat from all the tricks they'd played. Now, being hauled to this shady part of town for answers was really taking it out of me. I was getting restless, too.

She leaned back in her armchair, crossing her legs and wringing her hands. I noticed her long, manicured nails and shrugged. I had been right — not that I was ever wrong. “You’ve been playing with people’s lives, Leo Woodrow. I just believe it’s time you were brought face to face with yourself in the mirror,” she said. Her voice was cold and emotionless, sending shivers down my spine.

I frowned, hating the dancing around. “I don’t know what on earth you’re talking about. I’ve made mistakes in the past, but I do not see any, that is enough to warrant this insanity!” She let out a bitter laugh. Her head was thrown back. Her palms clapped together maniacally in ecstasy. she leaned forward, staring at me.

I could see her faint features now. She had wide cold eyes whose colors I couldn’t determine in the dark. “Not enough? Do you even know what you’ve done to me?” She snapped. “Stop the bullshit!” I retorted, frustration with the rigmarole starting to wrap around my throat. I was starting to think there was nothing. She seemed like a poor brat that wanted me to give her money for a crime I believed I had committed.

“Look! If you have an issue. Say it. I’m sick and tired of the games and the cryptic messages. You’re wasting my valuable time and not telling me what you want!” I hissed, tapping angrily against my watch.

“Fine then!” she hissed angrily, moving her hands towards her hood. A strange panic ran through my veins that I couldn't understand. For some reason, I would have preferred an unrecognizable stranger. If they felt the need to reveal an identity, then I had been wrong. It wasn't random nonsense. This person really had a score to settle with me.

Darn! I hated being wrong. She pulled down her hood, revealing her face. Her eyes looked angry and sad. Her lips were tight. Her cheeks and collarbones stood out because she ate poorly.

I blinked as the recognition slapped me harshly in the face. I met her gaze and my eyes widened. There was no way! Some things were impossible, and this was one of them. She leaned forward as though she was daring me to recognize her and what I did.

The shock I felt within myself spilled into my words. “Aunt Isabella?” I balked; my eyes widened in a craze. "What are you doing here? What is all this? Why have you been playing these crazy games?"

She let out another bitter laugh. It startled me because I could now see the insanity in her eyes. She leaned back, manically clapping her palms. “You think this is crazy?” I laughed, abruptly pausing to hold my gaze in the darkness that I was slowly starting to see in.

“You think it’s a joke?” I cried, my voice rising. “Oh, it’s far from it. It was the only way to get your attention. It was to make you see what had been happening for the past two years. That's when my brother was locked up and that woman you call mother ensured you never contacted him again.

I let out a pained grunt. Firstly, because I hated the memory. I hated to recall seeing my so-called father. He was unrepentant about ruthlessly killing two people. This issue had greatly destabilized me. No one knew, not even Nehemy and Jeremy, that this was why I had recoiled into myself. That this was why I felt the ache in my chest rising — that this was, why I was left with no choice than to left her.

“I don’t want to talk about him.” I hissed, averting my gaze so I wouldn’t see how the event had broken and traumatized him. It was an endless sea of photographers that lined our house during those days, and he feared they would capture his face and line it across the walls.

My schoolmates back then must have thought that I simply enjoyed missing school, but I had no choice. Not with all the drama going in my life at that time. Aunt took a deep breath and cupped her face, sniffing deeply before raising her eyes to meet mine again. “Leo, your mother is protecting you from the truth and while I think it’s a good thing. It is hurting others! It is hurting me! My brother is about to die without seeing his only child!” I cried, tears running down my cheeks.

I blinked. My tears failed to move me because I was convinced I was crying about the wrong man. My father was a ruthless murderer and that was all there was to the story. I wasn’t going to be moved.

“Aunty, I don’t see why you’re here crying over my father. I would appreciate it if you stop trying to blackmail me into worrying he is sick and dying,” I said. I shrugged and leaned back into my wooden chair. I hated the creaking sound it made beneath me.

"Your words won't change the fact, Leo!" Aunt Isabella retorted, her eyes wild with anger. "I don't think you know what it means to be left in the dark by someone you love. Someone who gave it all to help you. Your mother's actions and yours are leaving scars on lives — mine and your father's!"

I pressed my lips into a thin line. I was slightly disappointed that I had fallen for my aunt's pointless gimmicks and ended up here. There was an insane urge to stand up and leave at this very moment. Clearly, she could cause me no harm, and she had nothing of importance to tell me.

I’m not hurting you. I just want nothing to do with a murderer. If money is your problem, let me know and I’ll help. Stop blackmailing me pointlessly!

“Didn’t you hear me say your father was probably going to die?” I croaked, between my tears.

I lifted an eyebrow. “So?”

“He is still your father!”

I grounded my teeth. I had enough. The anger simmered within me, and I curled my fists, my nails digging into the flesh of my fingers. There were low levels one could go but aunt was hitting rock bottom. Otherwise, how would I try to defend a man I had seen caused so much pain and suffering without remorse?

“Don’t you dare defend him! Aunt Isabella!” I snapped. “Heck! I know he is your brother and you feel the urge to stand by him but that man killed people without remorse. He was a monster and I want nothing to do with him or his legacy.”

Aunt smiled bitterly, twisting her palms, clasped between her knees. “Then why are you still leading his company, Leo? How about you leave the billion-dollar empire alone”Leo swallowed and adjusted. I had struck a nerve and before he could consider responding, I continued.

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