Page 55 of Bossalicious Bad Boy

"Alright, Daniel," I concede, trying to suppress my unease. This is just a family dinner, nothing more. We're here to break bread, not start World War III.

The dinner conversation flows from topic to topic –- work, travel, and even favorite movies. It's almost easy to forget the undercurrent of tension simmering beneath it all. Almost.

"Hey, Clara," Jessica nudges me under the table. "How are you holding up?"

"Fine," I murmur, taking a sip of my wine. "Just trying not to think about..."

"Dad?" she finishes for me.

"Yeah." My eyes flicker to Daniel, who is now engaged in an animated discussion with James about their latest business venture. I can't help but wonder what part Dad might have played in their empire if he were still here.

"Clara," Jessica whispers, her hand resting on mine. "Remember what we talked about earlier? We're here to forgive, not seek revenge."

"Of course," I agree, forcing my thoughts back to the present moment. The past can't be changed, but maybe tonight we can find some semblance of closure.

As the evening goes on, laughter fills the air, and the weight of our history together seems to lighten. Perhaps this family dinner isn't turning out to be the disaster I'd feared after all.

There's a slight clink of silverware against fine china as the five of us sit around the elegantly set dining table. The private room in the upscale restaurant feels both intimate and intimidating, with its dim lighting and plush seating. I glance at my sister, Jessica, who offers me a reassuring smile. Daniel Blaese, his two sons, and the two of us Williams sisters make up this unlikely gathering.

"Thank you for inviting us to dinner," Jessica says graciously, breaking the silence. "This place is lovely."

"It's our pleasure. We don't often get the opportunity to gather like this," Daniel replies warmly, his gaze shifting between Jessica and me.

"Speaking of which," Daniel interjects, his eyes meeting mine as he sets down his wine glass, "we wanted to talk about something that's been on our minds for a while now." He clears his throat, looking momentarily uncomfortable before continuing. "Michael's death. We can't ignore how much it has affected all of us, especially you, Clara, and Jessica."

I feel a lump forming in my throat, my chest tightening at the mention of our father. It takes a few seconds for me to find my voice. "I appreciate your concern," I say softly, trying to maintain my composure. "It's been a difficult time for us."

"Of course, we understand," James adds, his expression sympathetic. "Losing someone is never easy, and we want you to know that we're here for you in any way we can be."

"Thank you," Jessica murmurs, her hand finding mine beneath the table.

"Michael was a good man," Daniel says, his voice heavy with emotion. "He was a true friend and business partner. His passing was a great loss to us all."

I can't help but bristle at the mention of their business partnership. Dad had trusted Daniel, and look where that got him. I bite the inside of my cheek, willing myself not to say anything rash.

"His passing was sudden," I manage to say, my voice strained. "It's still hard to believe he's gone."

The heavy silence that follows our toast is suffocating. I clutch my wine glass, feeling the cool condensation beneath my fingertips, trying to ground myself in the present moment.

"Clara, Jessica," Daniel begins, clearing his throat, "I need to come clean about something." He hesitates, glancing at his sons before continuing. "I played a role in Michael's downfall."

My heart clenches in my chest, and I grip the tablecloth beneath me, knuckles turning white.

"I'm the one who stole your father's company," he admits, his voice cracking. "I pushed him down a path that led to his decline in health. I know nothing I say can change what happened, but... I'm sorry. Truly."

For a moment, all I can hear is the blood pounding in my ears, drowning out any coherent thoughts. My hands tremble as I try to process what I've just heard. But then, amidst the storm of emotions, a quiet voice of reason emerges.

"Thank you for telling us," I manage to say, biting back the anger and hurt that threaten to overwhelm me. "It takes courage to admit to something like that."

"Our father made his own choices too," Jessica adds, her voice wavering. "We can't put all the blame on you."

"Still," Daniel insists, tears glistening in his eyes, "I should have been a better friend, a better business partner. I let my ambitions cloud my judgment."

The weight of Daniel's confession hangs heavy in the air, suffocating me. I stare at my plate, struggling with the whirlwind of emotions that threatens to burst forth. "How could you do it?" I ask, my voice breaking.

"Clara," Jessica says softly, placing a hand on my arm. I can tell she's trying to hold back her own anger, but there's also an air of calm about her that I envy.

"Look," Daniel starts, his eyes downcast, "I know what I did was wrong. It's something I've regretted ever since, and I've tried to make amends."

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