Page 21 of Obsessed Heir

“Do you think she did it on purpose?” Holly repeats slowly, as if speaking to a petulant child. “Was Abby aiming to hurt your mom’s ankle?”

Oh, right.I shove my hand in my pocket and mutter a terse, “No.”

“How about you not stress everyone out.” She turns to study her reflection in the walls she insisted on having in the elevator.

“That wasn’t my intent.”

“You have her here for a visit, then you pull this.” She runs her fingers through her hair in a rush of jangling bracelets. “Make the most of the time you have with your mother.”

I blow out a frustrated breath, her words hitting a nerve. I’ve been so focused on reaching my goal of making my first billion through my own hustle that I neglected my relationship with Mother.

Chasing one business deal after another, once I finished a project, and made money, I moved on to the next without looking back.

Somehow, time got away from me.

Losing her own mother was a wake-up call for Holly about cherishing the moments you have left. For me, it underscored how I’ve let a significant rift form between Mom and myself, one that originally stemmed from my dealings with Abigail.

Regardless of how I attempt to discuss the accounting related to her expenses, Mother refuses to address it.

“I don’t want anyone exploiting my mother,” I shoot back. The words are out before I can consider their implications.

Holly pauses, her hand freezing. She processes what I said before responding. “Is that happening?” Her gaze meets my reflection. “Is Abby taking advantage of her? How?”

Shit. While not an inaccurate statement, explaining its roots would be…complicated, to say the least.

I should have thought that through before opening my mouth. Following that line of questioning will not end well, no matter how I try to defuse it.

While Holly has been involved in my daily life these past few years, I’ve kept certain aspects from her, for her own sake.

Despite her modern sensibilities, or maybe because of them, I could never make her understand or accept that I essentially paid for that girl—no, woman now.

Abigail has grown into a woman while I’ve been pursuing my goals. A transformation I can’t ignore, no matter how I try.

Regardless, the large sum of money I handed over for her to remain under my mother’s roof created a rift between us. Something we haven’t been able to overcome, and the years have dragged out. I hate to admit it, but it seemed like a good idea at the time, given the circumstances.

Mom’s biting remark,you’re just like your fatherstill rings in my ears even years later. She did not mean it as a flattering comparison.

At this point, I had expected for Abigail to be out on her own, finally giving me peace. With her college fully paid, including a dorm, she has no financial reason to stay tethered to Mother’s home. Yet there she is, moved back in and even taking a semester off from school.

“I’ve gotta say, I didn’t see that coming,” Holly murmurs, biting her bottom lip thoughtfully. “I realize it was a quick introduction, but she didn’t hit me as the type, at all.”

Of course she wouldn’t. From what I’ve gathered, Abigail presents as quiet and unobtrusive, a polite wallflower happy to keep a low profile.

I didn’t catch on to the situation myself until I received an annual financial report. It shows a recurring monthly transaction from Mother’s account to Abigail’s.

The doors open with a muted ding. Holly doesn’t move, likely sensing there’s more to the story. However, I’m in no mood to talk about it at the moment. She reaches out, catching my arm as I step forward.

“Barron?” Her eyes search mine for answers I’m not going to provide, despite her imploring expression.

I grimace, knowing it’s my own stupidity that put me in the awkward position. But I won’t say more. I also can’t let it go. I’ve seen too much money change hands there to ignore.

She’s shelled out hundreds of thousands to Abigail in the last couple of years. That’s on top of college tuition and a new car.

For me, the money would be a drop in the bucket. But on my mother’s budget, that amount would undoubtedly impact her livelihood.

Drawing in a steadying breath, I admit, “I’m not sure. But I aim to find out.”

One way or another, I need to figure out whatever emotional or financial game Abigail is running and put a stop to it before she bleeds my mother dry.

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