Bruised And Betrayed

Micheal's POV

After waving goodbye to the petite, raven haired woman who helped him at the garden shop, Micheal walked around the store a bit more. She disappeared into the back almost immediately, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she really hadn’t recognized him. She asked his name for god sakes. He couldn’t remember the last time someone asked him that. Spotting the young girl who he’d shouted at earlier, another pang of remorse hit him. Shaking himself, he walked over to her, waiting until she turned to him. She froze, staring at him almost fearfully.
“Hey… Becca, was it?” He said, hating how scared she looked. She reminded him of his niece; small, light haired and frail. She nodded, still shaking slightly.
“I’m really sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have yelled at you, and I’m really sorry.” He said, stumbling over what to say. He wasn’t used to apologizing, at all. Something the other woman had said hit him though, straight in the gut. Or, it might’ve just been how she said it. Calm, reserved, but he could see it was something that upset her.
“Wow.” Becca said, the fear gone replaced with mirth. “What did Violet do to you? I swear, that woman is magical. And I only started here last week!” Still smiling, she thanked him, before going back to work.
He left, heading to his town car, thinking about what Becca had said. He had no idea what had changed in the last 2 hours since he had walked into that shop, but he knew the light feelings that had replaced the dark, churning, misplaced anger had everything to do with Violet. She was small, curvy, beautiful, reserved. He could see she’d been hurt, at some point in her life. The way she held herself, strong, but almost as a wall to protect what she wouldn’t, or perhaps couldn’t say.
As Maxon drove him to the studio, Micheal stared out his window, completely unaware when the car stopped, and his mother climbed in, until he heard a shrill voice he hoped to never hear again. Turning to look at the tall, slender, blonde who squealed when she saw him and tried diving over his mother into his lap, he scowled.
“Mother. What is she doing in my car?” He asked, not taking his eyes off of the bitch who had tried to take him and his whole fortune down with her. Her betrayal still hit him hard. Her pink lips had spilled so many lies to him and about him, he couldn’t bear to look at them anymore.
“Dear, be nice to her. She was blackmailed into doing it!” His mother scolded him.
“I don’t fucking care if she was blackmailed or not. Get her the fuck out of my car. NOW!” He growled, making sure Maxon stayed put.
“But, baby!” Millie whined. “I didn’t do it because I wanted to! I still love you!” Micheal’s whole insides froze, and he stopped breathing. Closing his eyes, he copied what he’d watched Violet do earlier. Taking a deep breath, he turned to his mother.
“Get her out of my car. I’ll meet you at the studio. Do not bring her. I will not be made a fool of again, and she is not welcome near me.”
He waited, watching in amazement as his normally pushy mother listened to him, pushing Millie out of his car. “I’ll see you later dear.” she chirped, before turning to Millie.
The rest of the ride to the studio was deathly silent. Funny, how the silence before had felt peaceful, and now he felt like he was being suffocated. Pulling at his tie, he stared out the window again, imagining Violet’s soft voice, and her hidden fire in her eyes. Instantly he relaxed. He would see her tomorrow, at his estate, and she would be inspecting his gardens. He was nervous to see her reaction, although he couldn’t fathom why. He had never cared what anyone might think of his gardens, nor had he ever been nervous before.
“Dammit,” He muttered, frustrated with the path his thoughts were headed. He had never reacted to a woman’s voice or touch so deeply before. He had fucked women and forgotten their name 15 minutes later. Yet, he had only talked to Violet for an hour or less, and the only touch between them had been accidental, but now she had moved into his head and refused to leave. The blue of her eyes is a color that would forever be his favorite color, even if he never saw her again after tomorrow.
That thought pierced him deeper than he thought possible. He had to see her after tomorrow. He refused to not get to know her more thoroughly, and he wanted to know her more intimately. Shocked by his own admission to himself, Micheal smiled. He was actually looking forward to tomorrow.