Page 45 of Grumpy Bossy Billionaire Enemy

I was too preoccupied to play the private investigator for Troy, but there was only one person who wanted to see his marriage end quickly – Mother.

“I can only think of one person,” I offered.

Troy was quick to think the same way. “You think Mom did this?”

“Yes,” I replied., “I’m certain of it.” There wasn't another person who knew about Troy's marriage aside from the four people present at the wedding.

These were people who would take the marriage secret to the grave, but Troy had rubbed his smartness about marriage in Mother's face; this was only one of the ways she could get back at Troy. Her first act was to pay Camille to disappear from Troy's life, but Camille's obligation to the contract she had signed was more important to her than the millions of dollars Mother was ready to pay. Plus, Troy had paid for her mother's cancer surgery; therefore, she thought she owed Troy until their six-month contract was up.

“I will catch up with you later, Henry,” Troy said before he got off the call.

“Troy.” I called him back to say, “I'd like to ask you something.” I cleared my throat. “It's medically related.”

“Do you feel sick?” Troy asked. “You should come to the hospital.”

“No,” I replied, “It's not me, Troy.” I swallowed to cure my dry throat. "Julia came here today. She is pregnant."

I took Troy's silence as a way of digesting the news. “She said she didn't know until a few months ago,” I said. “Is it possible medically?”

“Yes,” Troy replied. “It can occur in rare cases.”

“What do you do?” Troy asked. I knew he meant to ask what I would do with Amelia and Mother finding out.

He meant to ask how I would curtail the whole scandal.

“I don't know,” I replied. “I haven't the foggiest idea.”

The silence on the other end was quite defeating. We were brothers who had scandals before us.

While the scandal about Troy was out there in the world, I had to do everything I could to curtail mine.

Chapter twenty

The Never-Ending Questions

Amelia

I entered Father's study this morning, looking around the familiar environment I grew up in. I remembered the study quite well; I'd played hide and seek with my sisters, hidden myself behind Father's shelf, and slept for hours. My parents looked everywhere for me, but they didn't look behind the study's shelves because that was the last place any of us would want to hide.

Father was strict with his things. He wanted them kept without disruption, and he got mad whenever he looked for any of his books. That night, they sent out a search party into the street, hoping I'd wandered off. When I finally came out to the living room, I saw my parents' worried faces. Luckily, my parents had called the police and filed a missing person complaint.

My parents didn't spank me for making them worry; nonetheless, Mother pulled me in for a hug, and my father just walked away. It was then that I understood that my father was incapable of showing emotion toward us. However, it took years to know why, and now it hurt to know that it was because he had a family he loved so much.

I was here in his study today, smiling at the rush of memories. I realized that may be the funniest thing about my childhood. Father raised his head as he saw me. So I took the seat across from him, crossing my legs, and looking at him as if he were my boss.

“I never loved you less,” Father started. “I regret never showing it to you. I'm sorry I hurt you.”

“Did you ever love Mom?” I held his gaze. “For a minute, did you feel love for her?”

My father bit his lip. “I don't know,” he replied, “our marriage was never about love.”

“Just like mine?"

“No,” he said. “Henry loves you. He's come here a few times to talk about you…to defend you.”

“Was there a time you loved her, maybe have a tiny bit of affection for her?”

Father nodded, “A few months after our marriage, I thought she was the best thing that had ever happened to me.”

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