Page 91 of Sweetest Revenge

My eyes started to water again.

Damn him. Damn him for being like this.

I needed to know something else, so I just came out and asked him.

“Why is my father’s death date your password?”

He sighed and refused to look at me.

“Warren…”

“Because I lost my best friend that day, but it was also the day when I knew I’d lost you. I would never have you again.”

I wanted him to be bad. Wanted to hate him. I didn’t want to feel these things. Feel something so warm for him that it could be mistaken for lov?—

I opened my mouth to speak, but the door was pushed open. I swiveled to look at Tristian, who didn’t even blink at our position.

“Addison, your mother’s awake.”

32

ADDISON

Shame. Guilt. Embarrassment. I felt them all. But the emotion that was most prominent on my mother’s face was… anger.

Not anger because the person responsible for Father’s death was at my side. Or that our relationship might be more than just business.

Anger that I had dared question her.

“Treating myself with the money was the least I could have done,” she spat. “After everything your father did? I deserved it.”

I reached forward to take my mother’s hand, but she pulled it away. It stung enough to bring the tears back to my eyes.

I hated it when she was like this. Like a child when they didn’t get their way. But I had long since understood that this was the type of person she was.

Her body might have aged, but she would always remain the naïve, spoiled, twenty-something-year-old she had been when Father married her.

There were times when I wished for another mother. A harder-working one. A more caring one. But wishing never got me anywhere in life.

“I’m not blaming you,” I said in the softest tone imaginable, even as a war was raging inside me. “I just want to know where it is. The hospital bills are no joke, and four million dollars would pay off all of it and then some?—”

“What kind of daughter are you, rushing into my room as soon as I wake up and accosting me?” I flinched at her tone. Pain radiated from my chest. “Where’s my sweet daughter? No, I’m so glad you’re alive, Mom? No, I've missed you so much?—”

“She said that already,” Warren interrupted her for me. “Four times before asking about the money, which you got defensive about. No one’s attacking you, Linda.”

Mother quieted down at Warren’s tone.

Something warm shifted inside me.

Has anyone ever stood up for me like that? Especially to my mother?

She had grown up wealthy, unlike Father, and had the claws and ego only someone who lived a pampered life with zero problems could have. Including the ability to be harsh without any consequences.

At least until now.

No one has ever been on my side like this before.

I had no siblings. Even the people she hired would bow their heads to her when it was time.

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