Page 80 of Unruly Obsession
Ara follows my gaze, and when she looks back at me, it’s with sympathy.
I’m sick of seeing that pitying expression as everyone tells me how much of a "good man" my father was, although this time, it’s for an entirely different reason.
I go through the motions, following my mother and supporting her as best I can all the way until we’re home and I’m tucking her into bed.
“Let me know when you’re ready to talk, Mom,” I say, kissing her forehead. I’ve seen her mentally and physically beaten so many times that the habitual desire to protect her remains. Now I’m certain that if I simply give it more time, I can convince her to choose a better path—to finally focus on herself. We’re just not there yet. Where my shackles have freed me to a degree, hers seem to have turned her into an empty shell, and I hope the spark that was once inside of her returns soon.
I close the door behind me as I leave her bedroom and then walk down the stairs. I’m about to step outside into my mother’s garden when I notice the light coming from the family room. I haven’t been in there since Lorenzo gave my father that bloody beating.
The doors are already open, and when I curiously peek inside, I spot my brother taking a sip of his drink as he looks over some paperwork, his knee bouncing. We haven’t had much time to talk, as I've been catering to my mother’s needs and he's dealt with the companies, public affairs, and statements.
Despite Lorenzo beating the shit out of my father, my mother and brother never blamed him for his death. My father took a bad beating with a few stitches to the face, and they didn’t seem upset by articles announcing he’d gotten into some drunken fight. The articles never mentioned Lorenzo, which Iimagine might’ve been Luca’s doing. And it was the doctor who confirmed it was alcohol poisoning that killed him in his sleep.
A glaring truth that they couldn’t argue, even though, for once, it wasn’t because of his alcohol consumption.
“Vince, are you okay?” I ask, and his leg comes to an immediate stop as he looks up.
“Yeah.” He clears his voice. “I just—” He looks at the paper and puts it down, but I know him better than that. I especially know when he’s trying to hide something. “I found something in Dad’s office. I don’t think you’re going to like it.”
How many more secrets are there to unearth in this home? I step forward, no longer scared of the truth. I told Vince I thought our father was in some financial hardship, and he said he’d look into it. Hopefully, this might give us a lead. He hands me the paper, and my stomach twists into knots as I read the agreement.
“This can’t be serious,” I say in disbelief, staring at my father’s signature and a signature belonging to Mr. Timber. The agreement states that on the announcement of my engagement to Riley, and subsequent marriage, he’d offer my father a substantial loan of twenty million.
My brother's expression is grim. No wonder my father pressured me into the date with Riley. But to sell me off as a bargaining chip like this… I shouldn’t be surprised, but it doesn’t dull the sting.
“He never even viewed me as a daughter,” I state miserably as I sit beside my brother. I’d been clinging to some type of hope, anything that showed he might’ve still had a sliver of goodness remaining within his poisoned soul. But if he did, none of it was spared for me.
Vince offers me his glass. I take it and look into the depths of its amber coloring. “It’s ironic, isn’t it? This was what took him away, and yet, here we are, still drinking it.”
My brother doesn’t say anything to that, simply takes it back from me and swallows another harsh sip. It’s not until it's empty that he wipes his lips and says, “We’re nothing like him.”
It’s the first time I’ve heard a bitter edge in Vince’s tone when speaking about our father. I suppose we all had a strangled relationship with him, but Vince always acted so aloof and indifferent that I thought he wasn’t impacted by the same shackles I was.
“What ended up happening on that date with Riley Timber?” Vince asks curiously. Whatever my expression, the moment he looks into my eyes, he holds his hands up defensively. “Whoa, I’m not the enemy. It was just a question, Lily.”
I shake my head, feeling like I’m going crazy. He’s right; he’s not my father. But I can’t help feeling bitter toward him after his advice from that night. It felt like even Vince betrayed me.
“We just had different outlooks on life.” My eyebrows furrow as I think back to that night. Of course, I leave out the fact that Lorenzo plunged a fork into his hand. “That night, when I called you, you told me I should go, even when I told you I didn’t want to. Why?”
Although my brother didn't fall victim to my dad in the same way my mother and I did, I always believed he was on my side. But he betrayed me, and I found comfort in what felt like the only person on my side: a killer. Thinking of Lorenzo still hurts, like a vise around my chest, but he keeps appearing in my mind, every waking hour, and even the few hours I seem to get any sleep, Lorenzo Moretti haunts my dreams.
Vince rolls the empty glass between his hands. “I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”
My mouth drops open. “Vince, it wasn’t mychoice.That was the problem.”
“I know. I know. I just… Maybe he was trying to help as best as he could?”
I point to the agreement. “By selling me off?” I immediately shrink back into myself, staring at the doors, making sure no one else heard, as he brings his finger to his lips.
I put the paper down on the table in front of us. So many fucking secrets.
“He wasn’t a good man. I can’t believe he’d go to such lengths either,” he admits, disheartened and staring at the piece of paper between us.
“Why would he need a loan for twenty million dollars?” I question.
Vince bites the inside of his cheek, and I immediately realize he knows something that I don’t. “We’re in a lot of debt, Lils. The companies have been struggling for a few years now.” He rubs his eyes and hangs his head in his hands.
I feel the air rush out of my lungs. I’ve never cared to involve myself in my father's business, but to realize he’d use me as some bargaining tool, all because of his own downfalls?
