Page 19 of Forbidden Touch
This is ridiculous, and I can’t stand her arrogance. “Mother, you need to back off right now. Cancel the lawsuit.”
“Absolutely not.”
I had a feeling she would say that. She gives the commands in this family, and sometimes, there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.
“Then you need to figure out how to take my name off the paperwork. I won’t be involved in this.”
“Jonathan darling, as long as you own the company, your name will be on the court papers.”
Shaking my head, I stop when I realize it’s futile. “You made this decision without asking me. This is bullshit.”
“It’s in your best interest. There’s something you should know about Fiona Wolfe.”
Her endless slew of responses reminds me of exactly who she is—a Lane. She fights until the other person is exhausted. Problem here is that the other person is her son. My mother has no idea how she’s wrecking my life right now.
“Oh yeah? What’s that, Mother?” I ask dryly. “Please do tell.”
“Her family is using her as bait. Her entire job was to get you in bed so they could secure ownership through marriage, and if you can’t figure that out, you’re not as savvy in business as I thought.”
“Okay, this is useless,” I say, giving up. There’s no talking reason into my mother, and I’d rather figure it out myself than continue the stupidity. “Goodbye, Mother.”
Hanging up the phone, I refocus on the television, which continues to blabber on about our family rivalries.
A gleaming smile spreads across the lead reporter’s face. “This lawsuit has everything that people want to see—family drama, a potential romance, and a vicious fight for corporate dominance. There’s one thing that’s for sure, folks, this is a story you don’t want to miss.”
My stomach turns as my heart breaks out into another palpitation. I hate the media.
No wonder Fiona is pissed. This is all so messed up. Grabbing my phone, I jot out a quick message to her.
Me
Don’t turn on the television.
And then I think of another text to send.
Me
I swear I didn’t know about the lawsuit.
Then, I message a third time.
Me
I’ll figure this out. I promise.
After a few beats, a message comes in.
Fiona Wolfe
Don’t fucking message me.
Fiona Wolfe
Ever again.
My heart sinks into a state of despair as I lean against the row of cabinets inside my office. Why does my family have to be like this? Especially Mother—why does she need to be in my life causing drama for nothing?
Father leftmethe company, not her. Working with the Wolfes is not a cakewalk, but we’re coming to terms and helping each other out in this unusual situation. Why can’t my mother trust me and leave well enough alone?