Alaric’s POV:
“You don’t want me bonding with your wife.” Those were the words my mother said to me the moment I slid into the driver’s seat of my car.
My jaw clenched as I turned on the ignition. “Because I know you want to do anything BUT bond, Mutti.” I paused. “Did you say anything to her in there?”
Something had seemed off earlier when I returned to the kitchen. And when I asked Meadow, it felt like she had lied to me. But I didn’t push.
“I did not,” my mother answered firmly. “I already told you, Alaric. I asked her to come have dinner with me and Clarissa some time.”
She fastened her seatbelt as I reversed out of the garage, clearing her throat, and then she turned to look at me. “You seem to only think the worst of me these days,” she murmured. “When did your plaything become more important to you than your own mother?”
Plaything.
There she went again with the fucking nicknames.
My grip tightened around the steering wheel, but I chose to let it go. Because there was something very important on ground.
“You’re important to me, Mutti,” I muttered. “You know that.”
Despite our differences, I loved my mother. I would do anything for her. Anything. It was one of the main reasons Clint Russell was in prison. Ever since my father died, my mother had been trying to piece our fanily together. And she did, for a little while.
Until a little over ten years ago, when everything changed.
Nolan and I fighting broke my mother in ways that broke even me. And it was all because of her. Clarissa. And it’s as if she couldn’t even see that. She couldn’t see that Clarissa was the fucking reason our family
was broken.
And she brought her back again.
Eventually, this was all going to blow up in her face. And mine. But for now, I was going to let her believe whatever she wanted to believe.
“I know, son.” Mutti’s voice sounded light and as I turned to spare her a glance, she was looking out the
window.
My gaze shifted to her tight, blonde bun. I couldn’t remember the last time my mother let her hair down
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and just let herself… live.
“He appealed again,” she finally said.
My jaw tightened. She turned to look at me and I could feel her eyes burning a hole into the side of my face as she continued. “That bastard is still claiming his innocence.”
“Well, he can’t get out,” I replied coolly. “He always tries this, and each time, we get the judge to shut him
down. This time isn’t different.”
“It’s his audacity that pisses me off. Scheiße. I ought to go to him and teach him a lesson.” My mother scoffed, and I turned just in time to see her shaking her head. “He killed a man. He killed your father and
he thinks he can just appeal for his release?”
My palm scraped over the scruff along my jaw. “What exactly are you upset about? The fact that he appealed? Or that he killed Father?”
My mother was difficult to read at times–especially times like this. And even though I knew the truth
about how she felt, she was never going to admit it.
“I…” she whispered, and then shoved out a breath, shooting me a glare. “Don’t ask your mother such
questions, Alaric. Just fix it.”
I nodded. “I’ll contact Judge Timothee.”
My mother loved my father too much. It was one of the reasons she remained with him even though he
was an abusive piece of shit.
And I knew that somewhere in the bottom of her cold, black heart, she was glad that someone else did it
for her.
Because at least she didn’t have to go to jail for killing my father when someone already beat her to it.
Meadow’s father. Clint Russell. The man who ruined everything for our family. And apparently, ruined his
daughter’s life too.
Meadow was not in contact with her father. I was almost fully certain that she didn’t even know where the bastard was being held. I wasn’t sure what he did to her–what both parents did to her–but I had a feeling it all contributed into making her who she was today.
Fragile–hearted, Desperate to be loved even though she didn’t know it. Meadow craved passion and attention. It was why she didn’t see through that fucker’s two–timing bullshit.
As I drove into my mother’s estate, she heaved a sigh.
This was where I grew up. It was my home for the first eighteen years of my life. I fucking hated this place.
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“Your father was a terrible man, Mein Herz,” she whispered. “But he didn’t deserve to die.”
Yes, the fuck he did. “Mutti-”
“I see the way you look at me like you want me to accept evil or at least, admit to it. But Clint Russell betrayed your father, and then killed him. There’s no evil I could commit that would ever be worse than
that.”
I finally turned to face my mother. Her brows drew together in worry as she searched my eyes. “And I really do hope it’s the same for you, my son.”
My jaw ticked. ‘Too late for that,‘ I almost said. I had already done things more evil than betrayal and killing.
The irony was almost funny. I hated my father so much and didn’t want to be associated with him in any way. But over the years, I had slowly turned into him.
I had become him.
No. Fuck no, I wasn’t my father. I would never hurt Meadow the way my father hurt my mother. Never. I was different.
We were not the same.
I looked away from my mother’s eyes. “We’re here, Mutti,” I muttered. “I have to get to work for a meeting…
Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me.”
Someone had just opened the front door and stepped outside in a shade of red lipstick that was way too
red for a morning like this.
Clarissa.
Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun, her slender figure covered in a pair of shorts and a tank top. She raised her hand to wave at us, tilting her head as she descended the steps.
“Seems your guest has already made herself comfortable,” I gritted out.
“Don’t be cross,” Mutti scolded before she opened the door and stepped out of my car. I didn’t get out. But that didn’t stop Clarissa from making her way to me.
“Good morning, Ric,” she said in a sickly sweet tone. “Fancy seeing you here.”
My mother smirked. “He’s only here to drop me off, sadly.” And then she turned to me. “Remind your little girlfriend about my offer, mein herz. We could have a lovely dinner together.” And then she walked up the
steps.
Without sparing a glance at Clarissa, I started to push my foot down on the accelerator, but her hand slammed against the window and she arched a brow. Her lips formed the word “really?”
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Running a hand through my hair, I wound the window down. “I’m sure your ears weren’t blocked when my mother said I was only here to drop her off.”
Clarissa rolled her eyes. “Before you zoom off, don’t you want to know why your assistant hasn’t picked your calls yet?”
My gaze narrowed. I didn’t think much about it when I called Tyler back at the house and he didn’t pick up. He was supposed to be there at the office after helping her get her things from the airport like my
mother had said.
But with the way Clarissa was looking at me right now, it was clear that she was the reason he hadn’t picked up.
“What did you do?”
Not that I cared about the bastard.
She stepped back and away from the car. “Come out and I’ll tell you,” she purred, smirking at me. “Oh, I’ve been a bad girl, Ric.” Her voice lowered. “I’ve been a very bad girl.” 1
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CHAPTER 0089
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
Summary & Review: Fallen
