Page 97 of Darkest Deception

He includes me and asks me questions in board meetings and other smaller meetings, something Dad never did, so he didn’t seem like he is asking for help, and he doesn’t let anyone disrespect me as Dad did.

Dad forced me to deal with people ruthlessly while Helia’s one look is enough.

My phone is in my hand, against my chest as I stare at his contact.

I should tell him. Get clear. And just hope.

Is it wrong for me to think that I don’t see hate for me in his eyes anymore?

“Ambrose? We have guests downstairs!” Mom shouts.

I flinch, almost dropping my phone. I quickly rush out and head downstairs, dismissing texting Helia for later tonight, only to stop in my tracks as I spot my friends.

The friends I dropped.

Friends who ruined my skin, my body, and my life.

The Madden sisters.

Layla, Gabriella, and Inara Madden.

The daughters of the pharmaceutical giant who bullied me in school.

My hands tighten into fists, but I won’t back down today.

Why are they here?

“What the fuck are you doing in my home?”

They look at each other, smiling.

Like they didn’t just step into my own home. Like they didn’t love bullying ones below them; like they weren’t part of making me who I am today. Like they don’t fucking care that I suffered so much because of them.

I will never be that weak Ambrose again.

Nor will I ever go back to the way Dad wanted to shape me.

“Oh, we missed you, Ambrose. Remember us? Layla, Gabriella, and Inara?” Layla raises her brows.

“I don’t remember anyone in my life because of how insignificant they always are to me.” I shrug, and their faces fall.

The Ambrose from before Dad’s death is here. She’s here to fight back.

“Don’t be like that now. We came to go for a day out.” Layla takes a step forward, but I raise a hand.

“Don’t be rude to our guests, Ambrose.”

My eyes sharpen on Mum, who stops in her tracks. “Stay out of this.”

She frowns, a glare set on her face for talking like this to her. “Ambrose—”

“Mum. Leave,” I force through my teeth.

She gives the women one last look before scoffing and leaving.

I turn back around towards Layla, who is standing there, arms crossed with a brow raised. Dressed impeccably, a gold watch, perfectly done hair and makeup, dresses screaming thousands of pounds, they are dripping in money thanks to their daddy.

“Get out. I have no time to entertain you, much less people who supposedly claim to know me. Why does security let in unwanted people?” I throw this remark while looking at them.

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