*Mafia boss and his lost love*
Alessa Romanov had endured a difficult childhood. Kidnapped at two years old, she had no memory of her biological family and spent fifteen years in captivity. It wasn't until her stepfather's death that she was finally...
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As we approached the meeting place, my blood was boiling with anger and frustration. My dad and the people who had called me a mole and said those awful things about me wanted to apologize.
Ace's hand in mine provided a much-needed anchor, but I was ready to give them a piece of my mind. They were about to regret messing with me.
"Hey," my dad said.
I shot him a look that could cut through steel.
The others at the table looked taken aback by this act of mine, but I didn't care. They needed to understand the pain they had caused me.
As we sat at the table after ordering our food, the tension in the air was very much visible.
"We're really sorry for what we said," one of them mumbled.
I scoffed, my eyes narrowing in anger. "Sorry? You're sorry for calling me names or for hurting me?"
Another one attempted to explain, "We didn't realize how much it would hurt you..."
"You didn't realize?" I interrupted, my voice rising. "You never bothered to think about the consequences of your actions, did you? All you cared about was playing the blame game."
"Just because you can't find the mole, you're conveniently pinning it on me?" I shot back, my voice laced with irritation. "Well, news flash, I'm not the mole, and you know it."
My dad attempted to reason, "It's important we find out who-"
"Save it," I snapped, cutting him off. "You've already made up your minds about me. You're not interested in finding the real mole; you just want someone to blame."
My brothers looked uncomfortable, but I wasn't about to let them off that easily.
"I thought family was supposed to support each other, but all I've gotten from you is suspicion and betrayal."
My cousin chimed in, "We're just trying to protect the organization."
"Protect the organization?" I scoffed, feeling hurt and frustrated. "By accusing your own family? That's not protection, that's backstabbing."
"I won't stand here and be falsely accused," I said, my voice firm. "You can keep playing your blame game, but I won't be a part of it."
My dad looked remorseful, but I was done with their empty apologies. They tried to say something but I cut them off again.
"Oh, spare me the pathetic excuses," I retorted, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "You thought it was fun to spread lies? Well, congratulations, mission accomplished."
"You're a disgrace," I said, my anger reaching its peak. "And don't think your half-hearted apologies will ever make up for what you did."
I could see some of them flinch, finally realizing the severity of their actions. But I wasn't done yet.
"I don't need your apologies," I said, my voice cold and cutting. "I'm better off without toxic people like you in my life."
With that, I pushed my chair back, straightened my dress, and tossed some money on the table. "Consider that your payment for hurting me."
