Chapter 15

Jason

I was seated in my office, laptop on my desk, sorting through emails that needed urgent attention when a phone ring cut through the quiet atmosphere.

I picked up my phone. "Hello, Mum."

Her voice came through the other end of the line. "Jason, sweetie. How's your day going at work?"

"Normal. What do you want, Mum?"

Her voice dripped with sweetness and I knew she was up to no good.

"Can't I call my son and ask about his day?" She let out a sigh, sounding offended. I knew her too well to believe that.

"I'm not saying that. But what is it you want from me? You can't possibly call me at this time only to check up on me. Cut the drama please."

"Fine. Since you don't like it when I act nicely. I want you home today for a family dinner. Lila's invited. I mean, she's here anyway. So, see you at six."

She had returned to her usual, domineering nature.

"Mum, but—"

"No buts, be here by 6 p.m."

I rubbed my temples in frustration. "Fine."

She hung up before I could say anything else.

Damn!

"Lila." I muttered, her name tasting bitter on my tongue.

I knew it was her doing. Couldn't she understand that all I wanted was space? I had a lot going on and I needed a goddamn break. Was that so hard to understand?

As frustration simmered inside me, my thoughts drifted to the face-off I had with my dad hours earlier.

We had just concluded a board meeting on the matters of concern in the Blackwood Hospitality Empire. Top on the list of matters was the Charity gala coming up next week that was going to be hosted in one of our event centers.

I had just returned to my office. Seated at my desk, I flipped through pages of documents, eyes scanning through the mails my secretary had dumped this morning.

The door pushed open and my father stormed in, jaw tight, eyes blazing with anger. He came straight to stand in front of my desk.

"What was that stunt you pulled during the meeting, young man?"

I rolled my eyes and pretended to be busy with the task at hand.

After a beat of silence, I asked non-chalantly. "What?"

"Don't give me that crap, Jason. Why have you refused to take responsibility? Why would you be silent during a major meeting like that? Why would my heir sit like a fool while mere investors make decisions?"

I tried to take on the lighter note, injecting humour into my voice. "Woah. Take it easy Dad. So many questions at once."

My heart skipped a beat as his hands slammed hard on my desk, sending a couple of papers flying.

"Don't you dare me, young man. Start answering before I lose my temper." He growled, pointing a finger at me.

"You've lost it already Dad."

I looked him in the eye, trying to match his piercing gaze. His breathing became ragged, as he seemed to battle with his emotions.

Tired of goading him, I withdrew my gaze, sighing as I came up with a reply.

"I had nothing to add."

The pointed stare he gave me, made me regret my words. The intensity of his gaze cut through me – disappointment, disgust, disapproval all visible in his eyes.

Suddenly, I was transported back to those years when as a child I struggled to gain approval from this man. How I fought to make the best grades in highschool. How I graduated as the best graduating student in one of the top Mexican business schools. Yet, it was never enough in his eyes.

One slip-up on my part and he would taunt me for months as though I had betrayed his legacy.

His voice was low this time but it held a dangerous edge. "This is not how I raised you. You had better man up and start taking responsibilities. Or you'd watch me make decisions that you'd live to regret for the rest of life."

Was that a threat?

"Be careful, son. You do not want to rouse my anger."

He pointed at me one last time before striding out.

I shut my eyes hard, clenching my fist until my nails dug into my palm.

Sometimes, I wished I was never born into a billionaire family. Everything was about the money – the strategy, the manipulation. Couldn't I be human for once? Wasn't I allowed to feel? Not to bother about the system for a moment?

This evening, I was supposed to sit at that table with him, with Lila and act like everything was perfect.

Funny how I couldn't stand up to my parents even as an adult. I couldn't stand up for myself, and I lost Isabelle because of it. I let them poison my head until I sought happiness outside my marriage.

I squeezed my eyes shut, pain cutting deep into me as I recalled all the efforts Isabelle put to make things work. Yet, I discarded her like yesterday's news.

At about 5:30 p.m., I left the office and drove home. I gripped the steering hard as my thoughts spiralled.

I pulled up to the mansion minutes later and took a deep breath before getting out.

Inside, the dining table was already set. My mother stood when she saw me, giving a welcoming smile. Lila sat there, dressed in a stunning gown, hand resting on her belly. My father's expression was cold, eyes hard, jaw clenched.

"Jason, you came," my mother said warmly, moving to hug me.

I hugged her back, stiff and uncomfortable. She didn't seem to notice.

Lila smiled at me from across the table and all I did was nod.

"Let's eat," my father said, his voice cold.

Dinner was torture. Having to listen to Lila dominate conversations, trying so hard to impress my parents, felt like listening to the screech of metals against each other.

"Jason, you've barely said anything. Are you alright?"

My mother's words snapped me out of my thoughts.

"I've been listening."

"Jason, let's talk after dinner." She said, using that authoritative tone of hers.

I was sure in for another phase of drama.