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

They both sit and begin to eat; the silence is awkward and tense, but no one attempts to initiate conversation. The nurse looks around timidly before deciding staring at her plate is the best option and lowers her head. Finally, feeling my irritation rise beyond control, I break the glass-like atmosphere with a sledgehammer.

“Why are you here?” I blurt out, with not so subtle venom.

“I … We needed to talk about things, Emma.” She lowers her lashes, attempting to be coy, maybe even feebleness, but it only angers me. Putting her fork down and crossing her hands on the table she leans toward me.

“About what exactly? The fact that you’re screwing the man who loves to beat both of us up and tried to rape your only child?” I spit, harshly, taking delight in the nurse’s gasp of shock and the color rising up her cheeks.

I guess she didn’t know after all.

“Yes … Emma, he’s gone … I know what I did, I see what I did.” She tries to reach for my hand, but I yank it out of reach. Her voice has that air of victim that I hate.

How many times have I heard this bullshit? How many times has she pushed men away after they hit one of us, only to have him crawl back into her bed days later?

“Too little, far too late, Mother! You think you can just show up here and smooth it all over? Do you even know what he did while you were lying in a hospital bed?” My voice is raised and agitated; I need to regain a little control in this if we are to have it out. I hate that she always makes me break this way.

“No …” Her weak tiny voice betrays her nervousness, she’s afraid I’m going to tell her he succeeded this time. I catch that moment of doubt, casting my mind back to the look on her face when she caught him trying to hurt me once before … The fear he would want me instead of her. It makes me sick to my stomach, which only helps fuel my rage.

“He attacked me!” I snarl. “He’s just the same evil man he was eight years ago, nothing has changed!”

can’t formulate the words, but I can read her like a book. All she wants to know is if he had sex with me. This isn’t about me or my getting hurt, it’s about her boyfriend

he did,” I yell at her, the twist in my gut deepening as

me; it was always about her and her men. I just got in the way. I

my temper completely. Something inside of me snapping so very easily. It’s like a damn just implodes and the waters crash free. I have been holding this in for weeks and I just can’t

of him and I’m glad … he deserved it! I wish he’d killed him.” I break completely, screaming like a banshee, jumping to my feet, and sending the table into chaos as my body knocks it furiously. The bowls spill

clicks in her brain. The nurse tries to grab the cups to set them straight, without success, all the while her face

a pulp for laying his hands on me … Someone who didn’t have any obligation to love or protect me. My boss! Not my mother … My mother never would’ve stood up for me in that way, never chosen me over her

out and beat her stupid face to a pulp the way

can’t you see what you do to me?” I screech again, tears flowing down my face, emotions getting the better of me. My voice hoarse with the

Ray … He’s the reason Ray left!” She yells back at me, dropping her mask, voice filled with rage and accusation, poised like she wants to hit me. She’s on her feet trying to bring her small wiry frame to my height to scold me. The nurse stays seated, staring at her hands in her lap as though she wants to be anywhere but here. I have a tremor of pity for her, she wasn’t paid to get involved in the Anderson women drama or to witness

“What do you mean he left? You said he was gone … You implied it was your choosing?” I fall still,

believe she’d make the decision on her

was over and left. I haven’t seen him since. You chased him out of my life … again!! I hope you’re happy this time, Emma,” she yells at me hatefully,

is deaf to what she is

the recent weeks of agony without Jake

Both woman squeal and jump in fright and I push the table hard onto

at her, kicking away my chair ruthlessly so I hurt my foot, grabbing at my hair, almost ripping it out in frustration. I’m pacing, trying so hard to hold in the last ounces of

the week before I left Chicago, so many years ago. When she pushed me to this stage of erupting and going insane and I ran away. I ran, to protect myself, and protect her, from this anger inside me that wants so badly to hurt her; to retaliate at her failings as a