As he straightens his posture, he draws in a breath, pondering something. “I needed to make sure your dad knew we had really broken up,” he explains. “If he had any doubts about it, he’d never have let me see you last night.”
I frown, confused and troubled by his revelation. “But it was an investors dinner. You had to go.”
“Me, yes. You, on the other hand…” And as he lets his words trail off, everything starts to make sense. That’s why Dad suggested Matthew join us. “I needed to make sure you would be there.”
“Dad wanted me to invite Matthew to the dinner,” I disclose. “You know, the guy I texted you about.”
“I know.” And a wicked smile settles on his lips. “I’m glad he didn’t come though. The poor boy would’ve been heavily disappointed.”
Unable to deny it, I say, “Yeah, he had a crush on me last year. But he’s a good guy.”
“I’m sure he is.” There’s an ounce of humility in his tone that I wasn’t expecting. Then we are quiet for a beat as I see him ruminating over something. “Petra,” he starts, his face overly concerned and serious. “Your dad didn’t give me much of a choice. After he came back from the Netherlands, I was forced to break up with you and leave for Singapore. The plane was there waiting for me. And your dad gave me just enough time to say goodbye to you. Our breakup was being monitored through our phones. Most likely to share it as evidence with your mom.”
“What?!” I shout immediately, my mouth gaping at him. I’m so disgusted by my Dad’s behavior that I can’t help but shake my head. Of course they were spying on us. Even if Mom wasn’t physically present, she was nonetheless keeping track of my every move by proxy. “My parents are crazy. I mean, I should’ve known by now that they are. But I never thought my phone was being tracked and that they were listening to our conversation.”
I get up from my chair and go sit on his lap. It’s cozier here. Then I wrap an arm around his neck, and, looking him in the eye, I mumble, “I love you.” Alex observes me with the same tenderness, and after he takes my hand to give it a kiss, I can’t help but tell him in a tone sadder than I intended, “But never leave me ever again.”
It is indeed a glorious day in Manhattan. Alex and I have decided to do just what we used to do when I was seven: go to Central Park and feed the ducks and swans. Except now we can no longer do so, as the guard is around and technically it’s forbidden. But it doesn’t matter. We are here, together, hand in hand, strolling through the park, our hearts just as bright as the sun. Since we are not wearing masks, we order two ice creams and sit on one of the benches. His gaze is pinned to my mouth, observing me with amusement as I suck on the ice cream, instead of eating it with a spoon like he does. He lets outs a quick chuckle, and as our eyes lock, I know he is thinking about if he should kiss me here in public or not. But he blinks and looks away.
“Alex?” I hear someone calling, and I look up. “What a pleasant surprise to see you guys here.”
Oh, it’s Mike, the COO of Gatt-Dieren, with his girlfriend. Seeing him reminds me I still have to send him my financial plan. We stand and greet them warmly.
“Congrats on your speech yesterday,” Mike praises, giving Alex a quick pat on the arm. “Given your interview with the Financial Times, I was getting scared you’d be the one leaving.” Alex returns the gesture, but doesn’t disclose anything further. And since Mike knows it, he looks again in my direction, and says, “Ms. Van Gatt, what a pity we didn’t have time to talk yesterday. Are you still interested in the second round of funding, or has your godfather already taken care of it?”
Godfather. Fuck, when will he at least be my fiancé? I smile, holding back the word on my tongue. “My godfather hasn’t been involved in it,” I politely reply. “I’ll send you the financial plan. It’s actually ready.”
“Oh, that’s perfect. I look forward to it, then.” After the usual small talk, Mike shifts his attention back to Alex. “When are you having dinner with us? Have you been avoiding my invitation or what?” he asks, teasing him. “I’m inviting over some Swiss clients who are visiting New York. You know, that former exec who left Paribas, Laurent? He is dying to meet you. He just got his banking license approved and is opening a small private bank in Geneva…” Alex remains mute, pondering his request. “C’mon!” Mike gives him another quick pat on the arm as he notices Alex hesitating. “Just have dinner with us.”
After letting out a breath, Alex smiles politely at him. “Sure. Why not? Which day of the week do you have in mind?”
And at that moment, I realize one thing: goddaughters don’t go to dinners with their godfathers.
After all, why on earth would a girl like me go? A wife, yes. A girlfriend, maybe. But a goddaughter? What would be the point?
“Um, is Thursday evening good for you?” Mike asks, beaming with joy.
Alex doesn’t reply immediately; instead, his attention shifts to me. “What do you think?” Me? “Is Thursday evening okay for you? If you want to fundraise, Laurent is a great contact to have.” My heart can barely contain so much happiness. Oh, Alex. I press my lips tightly together to avoid kissing him in front of them.
“Sounds great, yeah,” I reply in a nonchalant tone.
“Perfect. See you guys on Thursday, then,” Mike replies, before leaving us.
I’m still trying to contain the urge to kiss him, but damn, I’m beyond excited. He notices and kisses my forehead, trying to contain the same urge. “Let’s go home,” he whispers in my ear. “I can’t contain myself for much longer.”
We don’t even wait until we get home. While his chauffeur is driving, Alex’s lips don’t leave mine. Not even once. Nor in the elevator going up to his condo. And before he opens the door, he snatches me up against it, kissing me again.
“Did you miss my lips that much?” I ask, teasing him.
“I’ll never get enough of them,” he whispers, nibbling my bottom lip. “Never.”
My eyes sparkle at the idea that we are finally going to live together, just like a normal couple.
Then he reaches for his key, and it feels like an eternity before we can get inside and make love. Maybe this time we could do it on the sofa, right past the entrance hall. As we pass the entryway, Alex closes the door behind us, and I shove him against the wall, devouring his mouth, already pushing his Henley shirt up.
“Sorry to disturb you.” A male voice startles us.
“Dad!” I blink twice, but my jaw is already on the floor. It can’t be possible! Then my gaze drifts slightly to my right. “Mom?” What? I must be dreaming! “What are you both doing here?” I cover my mouth with my palm, mortified at the sight. Oh jeez, my heart is stuck in my throat, and I can barely breathe.
“What the fuck, Roy?” Alex barks, already pulling me behind him. “You’re crazy, you know that?”
I close my eyes, forcing myself to wake up from this nightmare, but as I reopen them, all I see is Mom and Dad standing in front of us, censoring us with their glares. Oh God, it can’t be true! And yet my parents are literally here in Alex’s condo with… two armed security guards!
“What a pathetic slut you are, Petra,” Mom rebukes me in disgust, her head shaking.
“Fuck off, Tess!” Alex shouts. “Get the fuck out of here!”
“I don’t think so,” Mom replies just as stoically, her arms crossed over her chest.
Dad keeps his posture and glare as defiant as a murderer before killing his victim as the two armed men surround him. He paces slowly in our direction, his hands behind his back, and stands before Alex, coming quite close to his face. “What a terrible mistake it was thinking you could outsmart me.” His voice petrifies me, and I don’t recognize him! Where is my dad? The one who was kind and supportive of my relationship with Alex? The one who even let us go to Aspen? Where is he now? “Terrible mistake,” he repeats, shaking his head.
“Roy, stop it,” Alex snarls, barely containing his rage as they glare at each other. “This is twenty years of friendship y
ou are throwing away. Don’t be on the wrong side.”
“Indeed, twenty good years.” Dad lets out a breath, looking downward and then up at Alex. “I’m gonna miss them.” He then turns his freezing stare at me. “Petra, these two men will be your bodyguards from now on.”
“Fuck off, Dad!” I shout. “Just fuck off!”
Dad is about to grab my arm, but Alex steps forward, shoving him back. “Don’t touch her!”
The two men rush over to Dad’s rescue to protect him, and I see him so enraged, full of fury, that they trample toward Alex to do the same or even worse.
Oh God, they’re gonna fight! “Stop it!” I yell through my tears, stepping in front. “Dad, please,” I plead, trying to calm him down. “You guys are best friends. Stop it.”
But as I face the darkness in the eyes of my dad, my mom, and the two bodyguards surrounding them, I know there is no mercy to be found here. And unless we want this day to end in a tragic accident, it’s better if I just comply and leave.
“You don’t have to do this,” Alex mumbles, holding me by the arm.
Despite the difficulty of this moment and not knowing how long it will be until I’m able to see him again, I know this is the right thing to do. Alex can’t win against two armed bodyguards.
I look him in the eye, memorizing the last look we exchange as well as I can, then I run a hand over his cheek, and with the back of my fingers, I caress it, enjoying how soft his stubble is. Leaning toward his ear, I whisper, “I will wait for you. As long as it takes.”
Chapter 28
Petra Van Gatt
I never thought, not in a million years, that one day, Mom would be here on Park Avenue, sitting in our dining room beside my dad. I’d have never expected that she’d call me a slut either, and yet here we are. Yep, life can take some pretty unexpected turns.
Their faces are as frigid as the marble table standing between us. In fact, they haven’t said a word since we got here. Not even when I asked them why there is a jewelry box on the table. Nope; nothing. It feels like those meetings where the child did something wrong and has to see the school principal, knowing all too well that some sort of punishment will be inflicted.
As we all remain mute, digesting the chaotic scene that just happened at Alex’s condo, I can hear the swinging of the pendulum clock behind me.
Tick tock, tick tock…
But it’s not only the pendulum clock that is behind me, no. The two bodyguards that my parents assigned to me are also standing there. And yet I haven’t heard them breathing. Are they human?
Suddenly, I see Janine opening the door wide.
“My apologies for the delay.” Dr. Nel makes her way in. I notice she’s wearing her usual glasses and a fancy Hermès scarf around her neck, and is holding her briefcase.
After exchanging a few words with Mom, she sits beside my dad, who is now between those two witches.
Nel gives me her usual smile, but I don’t reciprocate.
“Shall we start?” Dad asks.
They nod at him in perfect sync.
“Petra.” I cross my arms at the sound of my name. “I know everything is my fault.” His fault? I furrow my brows in total confusion. “And I take full responsibility for that.” What is he talking about? What he did in the condo? “I should’ve never let you start this relationship in the first place. I should’ve protected you, and…”
“Bullshit!” I shout. “I’m not stupid! I know the only reason you had a change of heart is because Mom has got some dirt on you! Fuck off with your bullshit!”
Their jaws drop instantly—not sure if it’s because of my language or that I know the truth.
“Enough!” he barks as he punches the table. A few beats of silence ensue as Dad recovers his composure. “In the beginning, yes.” Ah, at least he admits it. “But after meeting and discussing your wellbeing with Dr. Nel, I understand how this relationship is not healthy for you.” I can’t help but huff at the crap I’m hearing.
“Your dad is right,” Dr. Nel adds. “You have Obsessive Love Disorder, Petra,” she announces. “This obsessive love you have for your godfather is very toxic and self-destructive. It will take time and a lot courage, but it can be cured. And I promise you, if you give it a try, it will work.”
“You can’t cure love, Dr. Nel,” I snap.
“You are sick, my poor child,” Mom chides. “Sick and totally obsessed with that man. This is over once and for all.” She taps her index finger on the table to mark her words.
Meanwhile, I keep shaking my head in total disbelief at the absurdities they are trying to feed me.
“Now…” Mom takes the jewelry box resting in the center of the table and opens it. "I want that ring and pendant in this box.”
“What?” I touch my necklace instantly. “No! They are mine.”
“Petra…” Dad insists. “Just remove them.”
“I said no,” I repeat louder. “They are mine, and I won’t remove them. Get over it.”
“What behavior! This is unbelievable!” Mom scolds. “Very well…” She then beckons to the two bodyguards, who slowly but surely move toward me.
“What the hell?” I ask her.
“At the end of the day, that ring and necklace will be in this box. We can do it gently… or not. It’s up to you.” Her icy tone is enough to chill the entire room.
“I won’t remove them,” I keep saying, but my voice is already shaking at the feeling of those two men now right behind me. I can’t possibility fathom my dad letting them hurt me, but alas, today anything seems possible. I look at him and ask, “You will let those men hurt me?”
“Just remove the jewelry,” he insists. “It’s a simple request."
I glance at Dr. Nel, who is taking something from her briefcase, and as I pay closer attention, it looks like a syringe.
Now my body is starting to sweat, alarmed and in fear. My heart is even thundering at the thought of a forced injection.
“What is the syringe for?” I ask them, my blood pressure dropping with every second.
“Since we can’t trust you…” Mom starts. “We have decided to implant a chip in you.”
I freeze, totally mortified at her words. She must be kidding!
“This is illegal!” I cry out. “You can’t do that!” Then I try to stand up, but I’m instantly restrained by two hands on my shoulders and pushed back down. I look at Dad, who remains silent and just as indifferent. “Dad, please…” I keep my anguished eyes on him, hoping he will say or do something—anything.
“Just remove them,” he repeats.
I don’t recognize him. With tears blurring my eyes, I beg, “Please, no chip.”
As he doesn’t seem convinced, my gaze remains glued on him, hoping he will reconsider.
After some beats of silence, Dad finally says, “Remove the jewelry, and there will be no chip.”
Fucking jerks.
I look at the blue sapphire gleaming on my finger. A small smile settles on my lips thinking about the day Alex put it on me. He even cried when he said yes. Then he kissed my hand repeatedly and told me how much he loved me and asked me to never forget it, which I now understand why he insisted on that. With a heavy heart, I slowly take it off, leaving nothing but a white mark on my tanned skin. For the first time, I can see his family name engraved inside, and, as I put the ring in the jewelry box, I see my mom cracking a smile of satisfaction and victory.
“Don’t forget the pendant,” she says.
“This was a gift for my baptism.”
“Petra,” she presses on.
I know there is no point in arguing. After all, they had no issue taking it from me when I was seven. Why would they have one now?
I feel the first tears coursing down my cheeks as I open the clasp and take the fine golden chain off my neck. And as I look at the pendant now lying in my hand, I feel a bit dead inside, just like in my dream when I’d killed myself. Except now, I feel like I’m killing him too. Swallowing hard, I pu
t the pendant in the box, right next to the ring. And in a sudden move, Mom closes the box and takes it away from my sight.
“What are you gonna do with them?” I ask immediately.
“Return them to whom they belong.”
“They belong to me.”
“No, they belong to a family you’ll never be a part of.”
I huff at her comment, and ask, “May I go now?”
“One last thing,” Dad says. “Your phone is being tracked. If you try to plan anything with Alex or even to talk to him again, we will know it. So don’t bother.”
“I wouldn’t have expected otherwise.”
While I don’t look surprised, the reality is that I never expected that he would confirm what Alex had just told me this morning. Damn! They have no shame whatsoever! Despite the harshness of the moment, I smile internally, knowing Alex never gave up on me, or on us. And I know that no matter what my parents have decided for us, he will come back.
I could’ve spent the rest of the afternoon locked in my bedroom crying with hate and anger over the most despicable parents on the planet, but for what? It’d just have been self-destructive. So instead, I lock myself in my atelier and decide to start a new painting. With some old tracks playing on my vinyl player, I stick with the same dark and gloomy abstract style. The first painting I do is very similar to the ones from the collection Outrenoir by Pierre Soulages that Alex and I saw last year, which makes me wonder if Mr. Soulages was also going through a dark period in his life. All of a sudden, I hear knocking, and confusion etches my face as I try to figure out who is at my door right now.
“Petra, may I speak to you, please?” I hear Mom asking after her failed attempt to come in.
Yep, it’s locked. Thank God! “I’m painting!” I shout back.
“It won’t take more than two minutes,” she insists.
Since I’m not in the mood for any more bloody battles, I let out a breath, leave my painting, and go unlock the door. Then I lower the volume of the music and go back to my painting, focusing on it. If Mom wants to talk, she can do so, but she won’t have my undivided attention. Oh no, that’s a privilege I won’t grant her.
Lured into Love (Blossom in Winter Book 2) Page 27