Page 89 of The Damaged Billionaire's Obsession
I don’t because Ethan Hawthorne is a fucking god.
I thought I was crushing on him before? Right now, I’m so infatuated that if he asked me to jump off a ledge, I’d seriously consider it. Holy smokes, what a way to wake up from a ten-year slumber.
I needed comfort, distraction, and respite from my shock and grief, and he gave me everything I needed and more.
My grief is still profound and not something to easily recover from. After all, Nan was the only family I had, but in the wake of my loss, I feel like I gained something just as profound; a lover, and a friend.
Someone who gets me because he pays attention. All the times it seemed like he didn't see me or care, it was him trying to conceal his interest. He was right the other day in his office. I’ve held his attention from day one.
The cloud of euphoria I floated on all the way from New York vanishes, however, in a mist of dread and disbelief the moment the Rolls-Royce pulls up in front of Nan’s bungalow on Pykkar Street.
There’s a beat-up old van with red lettering. The Harmonia Sect IV.
It’s not the same van from ten years ago because that one could not have lasted this long. Somehow, they’ve found a van just as rickety to replace the old one. God forbid they splurge on a new one. Not that they’d keep any money around for that purpose.
Dread spreads through me like an ink stain, and I’m rooted to my seat. A whooshing sound begins in my ear in the same rhythm as my heartbeat. I feel sick.
Through all my grief over Nan’s passing and the ecstasy I found in Ethan’s arms, I didn’t once think that coming here meant I might see my parents again. Nan is my father’s mother,but he didn’t speak to her while she was alive. Nan was vehemently against my father’s choices and lifestyle.
Throughout the four weeks she was in the hospital after breaking her hip almost two years ago, and the five months I spent when I moved back to look after her, my father didn’t call or visit her once.
Somehow, I didn’t think he’d care if she died.
Twiggy said he’d wait for me at Nan’s place, but he didn’t warn me that my parents had turned up. He couldn’t have known that I haven’t seen them in ten years, since I never mentioned them to him. He only knows I ran away from home at seventeen.
I can’t do this. I can’t face my parents. Not without Nan to back me up.
My father has always been firm and rigid, the one who laid down the law while my mother and I obeyed. Well, my mother obeyed. I always rebelled and questioned things.
When I ran away, I heard that they were distraught for a few weeks, but when Nan told my mother that she found me in Clonmel, they stopped looking for me. I guess it was less embarrassing for me to be sequestered away in Clonmel than to be under their nose, the epitome of corruption, while they tried to purge others of their own vices.
I imagine what they would see when they look at me now. Edgy, curly pixie-cut with dark purple highlights, earrings lining my ears, ending with large hoops on my lobes, my tan silk shirt, tight designer jeans, and black Louboutin heels, all of which probably cost more than their van.
It’s only 9 a.m. I’m sure they’ll be gone by evening.I’m debating leaving and coming back after they’ve gone when Twiggy comes out of the house and rushes towards the Rolls-Royce. I get out of the car to greet him.
“Bonnie! That was quick, love, ye gettin’ here so fast.” He looks at the car, “And would ye look at that car behind ya? Dressedto the nines, ye are too. Like ye've a million quid in yer back pocket.”
“Thanks, Twigs.” I look anxiously over his shoulder to the house. “Is my father in there?”
“Aye, he is. Both of yer parents are. But don’t be worryin'," he says, a steely glint in his eyes. "I reckon he's more vexed with me than he ever will be with ya."
Although I’ve never told Twiggy about my parents, you only have to be in a room with my father for two minutes to feel the weight of his disdain settle over you. As a Sect master, he spends every waking hour sitting on his high horse passing judgment.
“Did you tell them—?” I ask, wondering if he told my dad about his sexual preferences.
“Aye, I did. I told 'em I fancy men. None of their business, really, and they didn't ask, but I just wanted to see ‘em squirm. I’m sorry, Bonnie. I know he's your da, but…” He tilts his head toward the house, incredulous, “Has he always been that way?”
“As long as I’ve known him, yes. I haven’t seen him in ten years, so take it with a pinch of salt,” I murmur distractedly, still wondering if it’s a good idea to go in.
The widening in his eyes tells me he's surprised by this. “Well, at least yer not like me, eh? I'd wager that's the biggest sin in the book.”
“Surprisingly, it’s not. It’s hoarding money and befriending someone outside the cult. I mean, the Sect.”
I happen to breaking the most sacrosanct rules. Again. And this time unrepentantly. Fornicating with a billionaire and loving it. How do you like the sound of that, Father?
Twiggy looks like he might be sick. “Look, let's get inside, aye? We can't keep dawdlin’ out here. The undertaker’s comin’ for a chat soon. And your da? He's been gawkin’ out the window since ye rolled up.”
Meeting my parents again after ten years is everything I’ve dreaded. And worse. It hurt far more than I anticipated it would.