Page 41 of Powerful Deception

“Or maybe she isn’t an outcast, and the kids here are pretentious little assholes that take after their mothers. Maybe they should be the ones to go to therapy. That way they can learn to be better people and not treat others as if they are less than them because of something small on their face. So fuck your message and fuck you for even suggesting such a thing.”

Her gasp rings through my ears as I place a smile on my face and walk Alessandra out of the room without another word or second glance at Helen Baker.

I’m fuming by the time I get back to the car and strap Alessandra into her chair. It gets even worse as we drive back to the house.

How can a woman, a grown fucking woman, with kids nonetheless, say things like that? Especially about a child.

Something has to be seriously wrong with you to suggest that a child, one that isn’t yours, needs not only therapy but fucking plastic surgery, right? That lady is the one that needs therapy because fuck, who even does that?

Alessandra is perfect.

Yes, I’ve known her for only four days, and I don’t know this beautiful little girl fully, but what I do know, I wouldn’t change. Not even the fact that she doesn’t talk or her scar.

I’m so pissed that I want to tell the driver, to turn back so I can beat this lady up.

Fuck it. She’s next on the list. After I’m done here, I’m taken Helen Baker down but fuck her.

She will pay for disrespecting Alessandra like that.

When we reach the house, the anger has not dissipated enough, my blood still boils thinking about it. And even through my blood boiling, I’m somehow able to get both kids upstairs, not even waking up Angel in the process.

But the anger has blinded me enough to not notice when someone joins me as I change Alessandra out of her school uniform.

And I know this only because he speaks and breaks through the under the breath muttering that I’m doing.

“Arianna,” the deep voice takes me out of my angry stupor.

I jump a bit, meeting his gaze in the process.

For a second, I just look at the man in front of me. He’s wearing a black oxford that accentuates every inch of his wide shoulders and chest. For a second, I forget everything. Why I took this job. I forget about the anger from the preschool but then the man clears his throat and I’m brought back to it all.

I’m brought back to the anger and even remember the fact that I wasn’t supposed to be the one that picked Alessandra up from school.

“Look I know you’re probably pissed that I picked your daughter up from school, since you don’t trust me and all, but it wasn’t my idea. It was Evelyn’s, so take it up with her and throw your anger in her direction. I’m already railing from my adventures at school today, I don’t have the patience to deal with your mood.”

I tell him as I put Allie’s shirt in the hamper and fold up her skirt and put on top of her dresser.

“Adventures?” Dante asks as I go pick up Angel, who has finally woken up.

I ignore his question. “I can’t believe that you let your daughter deal with those types of people five days a week. The audacity of some of them. I swear if I ever see that Helen chick again, I will beat her face in.”

There are a few more colorful words that I want to say, like bitch, but I keep them in because there are kids in the room.

“Helen Baker?” Dante asks as I bounce Angel on my hip.

I let out a frustrated sigh. “Yes. That b,” I say instead of the complete word. “Who does she think she is? Suggesting that Allie needs to see a psychologist and a plastic surgeon. Alessandra is perfect, and she doesn’t need suggestions from Helen Baker. I can’t even believe she had the fucking audacity to come up to me and tell me that.”

Dante doesn’t say anything and when I turn, I see that he is looking at his daughter with his jaw ticking a bit.

He’s pissed.

At what, I don’t know. It could be at me for doing something he didn’t want me to do or it could be at Helen.

Honestly, it could be a toss-up.

I decided to deescalate the situation.

“Look, I’m sorry I went to pick her up. If you came in here to yell at me, can you at least wait until I end the day? That way I can drown in wine.”