Ariella Garcia is an 18-year-old girl who dreams of leaving her current situation behind and starting a new life. She's fiercely independent, and her love for nature and animals is unparalleled. She's always surrounded by people who care about her...
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"Get up," she said, briskly pulling open the curtains in my office, allowing the sunlight to flood the room. Her annoyance was palpable.
"I can't believe you messed it up," she continued, her tone filled with frustration.
"Not now, Mom," I sighed, glancing at the time on my phone. It was 10:59, and I had been holed up in my office since yesterday morning.
"Explain," she demanded, placing a hand on her hip.
"What?" I muttered, engrossed in reading some documents.
"Did you and Ariella fight?" She asked me with a pointed look.
"No, we didn't," I replied, avoiding eye contact as I checked my phone for any response from Ariella. She had stopped reading my messages two days ago.
Yesterday she had to take her DNA test, and I wanted to be there for her, but I messed it all up.
"She didn't do anything wrong. I said some things I wasn't supposed to say," I confessed, sighing and rubbing my temples.
"Well, apologize," she said, sorting through the papers on my table.
"I did," I responded, showing her my phone.
She hit the back of my head, muttering something under her breath, with the only discernible word being "men."
"That is not how you apologize. You need to do it in person, show her that you are sorry."
"Why are you even here, and who told you about Ariella and me?" I muttered, burying my head in my hands.
"Hazel told me about it," she replied.
I rolled my eyes.
"The ball is within three weeks, and I was going to invite her, but now you did this," she said, a note of disappointment in her voice.
I had completely forgotten about the ball.
"I want you to apologize to her and then ask her, or I'm going to invite her, and I will make sure you can't set foot in the ballroom," she declared firmly.
As my phone rang, I hastily reached for it, taking a few deep breaths before turning it to check the caller ID.
An irritated sigh escaped me as I saw it was just one of my men.
"Boss, we found him," he said.
Despite my disappointment that Ariella hadn't returned my call, relief washed over me knowing they located the person who delivered the package.
"I have to go, Mom," I said, standing up and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Ti amo e saluta papà e Vince per me." (I love you and say hello to Dad and Vince for me.)
"You better apologize," she called out as I left the room.
I knew I had to apologize, but the chances of her forgiving me were slim. She trusted me enough to confide in me about her dad, and I threw it back in her face just because I was angry.
