Page 37 of Unruly Obsession
“You spoil her,” my mother says with a small smile.
“Don’t be jealous, Mother,” Vince replies teasingly. He’s always been charming, and most certainly the child my father favors. I’ve never despised him for it, though. If anything, I felt sorry for the amount of pressure put on him when we were younger. But over the last year, he seems to be thriving.
The fireplace crackles at the end of the room, my father stoking the flames with a glass of whiskey in his hand. My gaze slides to the half-empty bottle beside him. At least it’s not an empty bottle.Yet.
“It’s not often we’re all here together,” my mother says as she glances over her shoulder toward my father. When he doesn’t reply, she turns back to us. “It’s nice.”
My heart sinks ever so slightly because none of us in this room, except perhaps my father, ever feels happy or comfortable being in this house. There are too many haunting memories lingering in every corner. No matter how good the others are at pretending that some things never happened, I’m unable to forget, even when I try to.
“Yes, well, I thought a meeting was in order so we can make sure everyone is on the same page,” my father finally says, and his gaze lands on me. A shudder runs over me, and I can’t help but look at the fireplace poker in his hand that glows red-hot on one end. He follows my gaze and makes a point to put it down.
“Your brother is doing well with the business—profits are up,” he begins as he throws back the rest of his drink, then walks over to my mother. He presses a kiss on top of her head and then pours himself another glass.
My brother is sitting on the couch adjacent to my mother, looking between my father and me. It’s very obvious a "but" is coming, and who it’s about.
“Lily, I’ve organized a meeting between you and Riley Timber,” my father begins. “He comes from old money and recently divorced his second wife. He has two children, but they remain with the mother, so serve as no real hindrance.”
“Riley Timber is in his late forties,” Vince interjects, and receives a scathing glare from my father because of it. I haven’t been in the room for more than five minutes, and he’s already orchestrating my life. It’s precisely what I thought would happen, but it doesn’t take away the bubbling anger or sting of having my rights once again taken away.
“This isn’t a request. Lily, you will be going on this date when he’s in town two weeks from now. You need to grow up.”
“I should get to choose who I do and don’t date,” I grit out angrily, still wary of how close he stands to the fire poker.
He scoffs. “So you can bring another barbarian to a party to humiliate me? I think not.”
My nails curl into my palms as he insults Lorenzo. Even if the situation itself is a facade, it gives him no right to look down on him with such contempt.
“Lily,” my mother says, giving me a small shake of her head, a signal to not object to my father's wishes. She looks so small compared to him, and the reminder of how we’re all under his thumb makes me so angry. But the anger quickly rolls into sadness. I know too well that my mother is the one who fears him the most. At least my brother and I can escape.
Why has she chosen to remain by his side all these years?
The door swings open. “Sir, you can’t!” Bentley yells as the larger-than-life form of Lorenzo steps into the room.
“Sorry, I’m late, sweetheart. Parking the car took me longer than I expected,” Lorenzo says as he places his hand on my hip,pulls me in, and presses a kiss on my head. I’m too stunned to speak.
“What’s the meaning of this?” my father grits out, and my brother stands from his chair, obviously intervening as he holds out his hand to Lorenzo.
“Vince Taylor. You must be the date from the charity event I’ve heard so much about.”
Lorenzo holds out his hand, as if the most pleasant of gentlemen, his other hand still gripping my hip tightly.
“Lorenzo Moretti. And it’s boyfriend, actually.”
I freeze under the scrutiny of my father’s gaze. I want to hide as much as I want to wring the neck of this insufferable man who can’t take a hint.
“Boyfriend? Isn’t that something?” Vince says, looking between us both, and I turn to him, trying to brighten with a smile as best as I can.
“Yep” is all I can manage to get out, because a million other things run through my mind. The room fills with palpable tension as my mother and I stare at my father, unsure of his reaction. Forever treading on broken glass around him.
“Well, I can’t wait to hear how you two met.” Vince claps his hands and rubs them together. “Shall we go in to dinner?” He hooks his arm around my shoulder, pulling me in. It’s the same as when we were kids, except now we know opposing my father is anything but a game. “This is going to get interesting,” he whispers into my ear with a mischievous grin, and my skin tightens as I recall the many times that smirk has gotten us into trouble.
Yet, there’s an odd sense of security as I look over my shoulder at Lorenzo, who only watches me, blocking my parents' view, and begins to follow us. The feeling of safety is short-lived, though, as I recall the listening device he planted on me. I aim a scowl at the asshole who disregards my boundaries, has stalkertendencies, and went and did the one thing I said was strictly forbidden: inserting himself into my family.
“Bentley, bring out our finest bottle of whiskey!” my brother yells, slipping ahead of me. The moment he does, I drop back to Lorenzo.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I whisper angrily.
“You shouldn’t have tried to be clever,” he replies, glaring down at me.
