Chapter Forty One. Botox Couldn't Fix

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Ian Cros

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Ian Cros

My mother's white dress was slim against her bony body. The red overcoat hung on her arm as she set it on the counter, tapping her long nails on the coffee box. The wrinkles around her mouth twitched before she fake smiled at me.

I rolled my eyes, irritated. "Why are you here?"

Her laugh screeched in my ears before she dug into her oversized purse. "You left your gift, so I thought I would bring it."

"Cut the shit, Mom," I replied, crossing my arms.

Her intense eyes glanced at me for a moment of silence while she thought. Her thin fingers pulled out a pocket mirror, flipping it open to fix her pink lipstick. She bobbed her eyes between me and herself.

"Your father is upset with you." She clicked the mirror closed and tossed it in her purse.

I scuffed, shaking my head, and opened my door. "I think you should go."

She placed her hand over her heart. "Ian, you can't kick your poor mother out on the streets."

"I'm not kicking you out on the streets!" I turned toward her, leaving the door swinging and letting the cold air in. "You know very well why I left you and that man in New York and why I never want to see his face again!"

She put her hands up like playing innocent would help her. "Ian, I don't understand why you—"

"You two killed her!" I yelled, pulling at my hair. "You may not have put your hands on her, but you killed her for no reason!"

"Keep your voice down."

"No! Fuck no!" I screamed, laughing in disbelief. "How could you let that monster end a beautiful young life?" A tear slipped from my eye, and I wiped it away quickly. "She had so much more life left. So much more to teach to the rest of us evil souls."

"Isabella was not our—"

I pointed at her. "Don't you dare repeat her name, you heartless bitch!"

My mother's eyes widened with hurt, but her expression faded to anger. "You ungrateful little bastard," she said through her teeth. "We, your father and me, did everything for you. I had raised you to be a gentleman. To take over what your father built."

I laughed, shaking my head. "You are so far from reality. I will never take over that heartless job."

"Ian—"

"Just shut up and leave," I said, pointing at the open door.

"Ian—"

"No! I will never forget you two killed her!" I yelled until my voice cut from hurting.

The creaking of the floorboards had her glancing over at the door. Emily stood there with a shocked expression before smiling at my mother. Her hand reached toward her, not reading the situation.

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