The Carrero Effect - Falling for the Boss (Billionaire CEO)

“Emma! My little girl.” She releases Sophie’s hand and reaches out to me, her other one bound in a cast and strapped to her chest. I hesitate, straighten my tailored pants, and blouse and walk toward her dutifully, bracing myself so that I stay calm and in control.

“Mother.” I take her hand; it’s cold and smooth but feels like skin and bone and it angers me. She’s obviously not eating properly again, so caught up in another affair of the heart, bogged down with infatuation. She was always good at ignoring her own basic needs when wrapped up in another unhealthy relationship.

“It’s so good to see you … You came home to Chicago for me!” her voice is soft and injured causing the reaction to catch in my throat. Guilt, tears, anger, a chaos of emotions, and I can’t look at her in the face, already uncomfortable holding her hand. I glare out the side window over the buildings in Chicago and the dull weather outside, trying to remain impassive. Trying to steel against all that she makes me feel. I want her to cut the crap with the over sentimental greeting, it’s obviously purely for Sophie’s benefit.

“What have you told the police?” I smart. I don’t want to do this tear-jerking deep conversation crap with her. I just want to make sure she’s okay, that she’s healing, then I want to get the hell out of this place. As soon as earthly possible.

“Emma, please? You know it’s never that straightforward,” she whines, and I bristle and drop her hand coldly. My face snapping around to lock eyes with her in impulsive rage. Same old familiar conversation.

“You’re kidding me, right?” I snort in disbelief, spinning my body around to match my glare.

“You have no idea, Emma, you don’t know what happened.” Her voice seems suddenly stronger, losing all ounce of vulnerability now that I’m peeking anger at her.

“I don’t need to, it never changes. Who was it this time? Another five-minute romance or is this someone longer term? How often has this one hit you huh?” I snap; my temper getting the better of me and Sophie moves off to sit in the corner. She looks uncomfortable and wide-eyed and it makes me all the more guilty. She doesn’t need to see all this.

“That is none of your concern! This is my life and affects only me!” My mother snaps back at me, yanking her hand back to her chest in anger. Not so frail now.

The tears blind me, and I start losing it. Bubbling up inside. I storm away, wrapping my arms around myself and glare out of the window to pull it all back in. Cool down,

cringey voice, the same pathetic excuses

can’t do this, not again; coming back was a mistake and this is just a sad repeat of a dozen conversations. I can’t hold it in, hold my anger or the heart break. My mother is once again

you inflicted on me … Don’t even begin to argue.” I swing back around at her, my eyes pouring pitifully; she looks shocked at my obvious distress. She has never seen me cry, not since I was a very small child. “You’ve no idea the chaos that you cause … “This …” I gesture across her body and injuries. “Is only the tip of the iceberg, Mother! I won’t let you subject Sophie to more of the same crap.” I can’t say anything more, my voice breaking, the tears taking over. I just

morning and get a bus home later, giving her extra money so. I don’t have to stay and endure this. I have no

my coat in my hands, shaking and sobbing. The driver that Jake hired standing dutifully to open my door as I approach, and I get in. I

change. She will never see that she’s the one who brings this on. She chooses these men, then makes goddamn excuses for what

I leave. I decide it’ll be sooner rather than later as I can’t stay here much longer; she won’t talk to the police, even I know that. She will make Sophie lie to them for her too, like she used to

when she ends up back here and then? Maybe one day one of them will kill her. Can she not see how what she does

my head. PA Emma winning over when faced with too much trauma to cope with. My defense mechanism kicking in and numbing

and focus instead on getting the hell away from this place. I hate Chicago!

and a lift in my mood.

has sent you an iTunes

Give Me A Reason” by

missing the message. I press play listening to the song, trying to decipher the meaning for sending it and can’t. I glance at the time of the email and realize he sent it