Page 90 of Contract of a Billionaire
Oh, he did not.
My eyes narrowed on the big, towering frame and my hand with my phone shot to his chest.
“You tell Alessio he cannot control my movements,” I hissed, my cheeks hot with frustration and all the while poking at his chest. “Actually, never mind. I’ll tell him myself.”
Before I realized what I was doing, I pulled up his number and dialed him.
“Autumn.” My face burned crimson. Images of the two of us last night flashed through my mind. Damn him. “I’m glad you still have my number.”
I never had it in me to delete it. Not because I still loved him. But because hewasmy child’s father.
“Tell your brute to let me pass,” I grumbled, pissed off that even over the phone, Alessio managed to make me all flustered. “I’m going to visit my parents for breakfast.”
A long pause followed.
With each second that ticked by, my irritation rose another notch. I opened my mouth, ready to snap at him. Scream at him.
“Ricardo will take you.”
“No need,” I protested. “I can take a cab.”
“Either Ricardo takes you or you stay home.”
Anger consumed me. Scratched at my throat. Burned my cheeks. I have traveled the world for the past four years alone. Jungles. Deserts. War zones. I didn’t need a goddamn escort. I was a grown woman.
“This isn’t over,” I spat in a low voice, trying desperately to hold on to my reason. I’d deal with him later. I ended the call and glared at Ricardo. The poor guy was getting the brunt of my anger. “Alessio said you’ll drive us to my parents.”
This was fucking bullshit. I traveled the whole goddamn world, and now I couldn’t go across town to my parents alone.
Fuck. That. Shit.
Ricardo’s phone beeped at that moment. It must have been the instructions from Alessio. If I let the anger boil, I’d end up seeing red and blowing a gasket. So I took a deep breath in and released it. Then I repeated it again.
Ricardo drove us in a black, bulletproof Expedition that had a new car seat in it. And the old one to return to my maman. I didn’t even ask. I just counted the minutes to get to my parents’ home. Before we pulled up in front of their home, my phone beeped.
It was a message from Branka, asking where I was. She was already at my parents’ home. How was it that shit always ended up happening all at once? Never nice and slow. I had no doubt that Maman and Dad had given her a version of her brother taking me to his place.
Jesus Christ!
I typed a quick message letting her know that Kol and I were on our way.
* * *
We spent all morning outside.
Thick tension permeated the air, dancing between the leaves that swirled around our feet as we picked them up. Thank God we were outside because the tension was so stifling, I could barely get enough oxygen to breathe.
Maman was smart to put us to work, helping with the cleanup of the leaves and the garden. Dad had been grumpy. Maman was worried. Branka was – I wasn’t sure. Maybe a combination of a bit mad, a bit disappointed, and a lot worried.
The only one that seemed perfectly relaxed was Kol. He’d push all the leaves into a pile we were building, then throw himself into it. It was part of the reason it took us a long time to clean up the yard.
That was probably Maman’s plan all along. Tire us all out, and then we’d talk. She even made us eat lunch while we labored with the damn leaves that kept falling. I honestly saw no point in cleaning them.
It was when Kol finally went to take a nap that my father finally said something.
“Has he hurt you?” I blinked in confusion.
It wasn’t exactly the first question I expected. I shook my head. Father meant physically and that was a true answer. He hadn’t hurt me physically. Four years ago, when I caught him cheating, I was devastated. When he told me I was just a fuck to him, I wanted to loathe him. I never quite succeeded.
