Page 141 of Love or Tequila in Unexpected Places

Angelo drew in a sharp breath, about to speak. “Your father almost went bankrupt twenty years ago,” he said, his voice low. “He found a way back—too quickly.”

His eyes didn’t leave hers, giving Allison the sense of security, despite the ominous feeling that overtook her as he continued.

“He hired a man, planted him in companies,” Angelo continued, his voice tightening. “This man infiltrated the finance departments of big corporations, under a different name each time, where he would record their transactions, until he would find a way to create dead capital.”

He paused, swallowing hard, and Allison could see the struggle in his eyes. She silently urged him on, fearing that if he stopped now, the truth would remain buried forever.

“The man made large, unnecessary purchases—outdated, unsellable inventory. Hundreds of thousands wasted, every month. After six months, the companies would go bankrupt, and your father would swoop in, buy them for next to nothing, and resurrect them—with him in control.” Angelo’s voice dropped to a near-whisper. “He tried it with my company. But I caught his man on my board.”

A pin dropping would have been as loud as a gunshot in the silence that followed. Allison’s eyebrows raised to her hairline, her eyes falling closed from the weight of her father’s actions.

“Oh.”

She felt frozen, turned into an icy cold statue, a distant version of herself that took form in the harsh, unforgiving light of her father’s betrayal. The revelation struck her to the core, and for a moment, she was paralyzed, her mind numb and her heart encased in a shell of ice. Her chest constricted painfully, each breath a laborious effort as she tried to comprehend the magnitude of what she had just learned.

Slowly, her blood began to warm, a burning rage coursing through her veins, melting the icy exterior that had momentarily encased her. Her vision blurred, and a fiery heat surged from deep within her. She exploded, a torrent of emotions erupting all at once—anger, hurt, betrayal, and sorrow—each one vying for dominance as she struggled to reclaim her sense of self from the icy grip of shock and disbelief.

“How could he?” Her voice trembled with fury. “He destroyed all those companies, shattered so many lives. People lost their livelihoods, their families probably fucking starved! And forwhat?Just so he could line his pockets with more money?” Allison started pacing instinctively, too overcome with emotions to stay still.

“Who does that? He played with people’s lives like some goddamn puppet master, tearing them apart without a second thought!” Her hands tangled in her hair, pulling at the roots in anger or despair or heartbreak or everything at once. She felt something cool running down her cheeks—she was crying.

Katerina came running down the stairs, her disheveled state not registering in Allison’s frazzled mind. She slowed to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, as the blonde woman gradually unraveled.

Angelo approached cautiously, his steps slow and calculated, but Allison moved away instinctively. She was scared if he touched her now she would burn him.

“Allison, please. Calm down.” He raised his hands in a placating motion, appearing scared he’d push her over the proverbial edge.

“I—can’t—breathe.” Each word came out between ragged gasps, as she clutched her chest, her breaths growing faster.

Katerina rushed to her side just as Angelo reached for her, arms extended.

“Ali, I need you to listen,” Katerina said, her voice—stern but warm—trying to break through the haze. “Angelo is holding you. Feel his arms, Allison, focus on the size of them, the pressure on your shoulders, the weight of his palms on your arms.”

Allison tried. But all she could focus on was her father. His cruelty, his greed, his manipulation. Her fuckingfather.

Her mind spun in chaotic loops.How did I not see this? How did I miss it?She had worked so closely with him, been his assistant for years. And yet, she’d been blind to it all.

Who am I now?

Her mind was a battlefield, anxiety the ever-present enemy. The pain was relentless, an invisible weight pressing down on her chest, making each breath a conscious effort. She was losing herself in the heartbreak, the person she once knew slipping away with each tear that fell.

“Come on, sweet girl, breathe for me. Please.”

In the labyrinth of her mind, she was drifting, untethered and ghostlike, as reality disappeared behind a fog-like haze.

Panic rose, a relentless tide, crashing against the fragile walls of her disconnection, although she couldn’t feel it. Her breath quickened, shallow and erratic, like a bird trapped in a glass cage, and yet she couldn’t feel that either. The world around her blurred into a chaotic swirl, sounds and colors bleeding into each other, as her pulse throbbed a wild rhythm.

She was standing on the precipice of her own consciousness, watching as her mouth opened, a silent scream lodged in herthroat. She was teetering between the bottomless abyss of panic and the dark void of detachment, grasping at the fraying edges of herself, desperate for something solid to hold on to.

She was drowning on dry land, choking on the very air she breathed, buried alive beneath the weight of her own existence. She was dying, there was no way she would survive this pain, this betrayal, this—

“Allison!” Hands shook her with a desperate urgency, a masculine voice shouting her name. It sounded familiar, yet distorted—a voice that was meant to be warmer, kinder, and calm, now edged with a raw intensity that pierced through her disoriented haze.

Angelo.

“Please, breathe. Just breathe,” he urged, shaking her gently as if trying to wake her. But she wasn’t asleep. She wished it were only a nightmare—a dark, twisted dream crafting this relentless torment and unimaginable pain. Yet reality clung to her, tightening its grip, squeezing the air from her lungs until she felt like she was suffocating from the inside out.

Suddenly, the agony became real and tangible—a deep ache spreading from her core, like a muted echo reverberating through her very soul. If she had any breath left, she would have screamed, but the silence consumed her, leaving her trapped in the unyielding grip of her suffering.

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