Chapter 116 She's spanish.
CHAPTER 116
She’s Spanish.
ROMAN – POINT OF VIEW
I woke up the next morning with intention.
While trapped in her nightmare, Scarlett had called out for her father. She didn’t say ‘Dad’ or ‘Daddy’ or even ‘Father’, she said Papa in a very thick Spanish accent. I guess it’s hard to continue to pretend when asleep. All her guards came down, and her true self stepped out. She had called for her Papa, sounding like a child. I could bring myself to tell her because I knew it would break her. The fact that, unknowingly, she had given me a piece of herself.
Everything I want to know now circles around the fact that she grew up Spanish.
There are many Spanish-speaking countries from Mexico to Colombia, Peru, Spain and Argentina. There are more, but those are the major ones. Scarlett’s background traces back to one of these countries.
Oddly enough, when I woke up, she was on my mind, but so was my mother.
I should have my men look into her, find out what they can, but I want to do it myself. First, I need to see my mother. I haven’t seen her in six months, which is around the time Scarlett came into my life. A lot has changed since then. I cannot avoid her any longer, though. I need to see her. She’ll turn me away as always, but I must see her.
“You’re up early,” Scarlett whispers, walking downstairs.
She is wearing my shirt, her cheeks are flushed, and there are no traces of the nightmare she had last night.
I fiddle with my cufflinks unsuccessfully and say, “I have to take a trip, babe. I’ll be back today.”
She closes the distance between us and works on my cufflinks. “Where are you going?”
I don’t respond immediately. I look at her. Her face is bare, and yet, she is always the most beautiful woman in every room.
I have told her about my mom before, but not fully. It will be a mistake to open up to her when I’m so close to opening an investigation on her, again, but I do.
“I need to see my mother.” I admit, pushing back the knot in my throat, “It has been over six months. I should have … visited her soon,” I clear my throat, tasting bitterness, “We are not really on the best of terms, but I’m willing to try and make amends. I’ll be back before evening.”
She nods and smooths her palm over my chest, “Alright. You’ll take your bodyguards?”
I nod, “I should. Rue and Russell will be with you. I’ll leave a team of six.” I caress her wrist and pull her to me, “Let me know if you want to leave.”
She smiles and throws her arm over my shoulders, “I will.”
I close the distance between us and press my mouth over hers. My blood spikes, and goosebumps break over my skin. I pull her closer to me, tightening my grip around her waist as she slides her tongue in my mouth. She presses her body against mine and reaches down to palm my erection.
I groan and pull away from her slowly, “Fuck, baby.”
Her cheeks burn, and she murmurs, “Sorry, sorry.”
“How about we do something when I return?” I decide out of the blue, not sure how long I can hold back on this need.
She comes alive immediately, eyes flashing like Christmas lights, “I’ll love that very much, baby.”
“Good.” I hug her title and run my fingers through her hair.
Her black roots are more obvious now. She is not yet aware of it. I’m sure the moment she notices, she’ll cover it up with dye again, desperate to hide every trace of the real her. I am not supposed to see her, after all.
I file away the information – Spanish. Black hair. Accent. Trauma related to her father. Absent mother? Dead parents. Murdered?
“Do … do you need anything for your mom?” She pulls away, brows furrowed.
“Anything?” I lean against the counter, confused.
“Maybe a fruit basket, some chocolate bread, what does she like?” She asks, hand on her hip.
Warmth spread through me. She doesn’t know my mom, and yet, she is making an effort.
“She likes … She likes fruits, and,” I pause, push back the knot in my throat and clench my fist, doing everything to hold back my emotions, “She likes drinks, scarves, not because of the scars, she has always loved scarves, and she loves books too.”
She nods, committing everything to memory, “Wait here. I’ll be right back. Do not leave.” She warns sternly.
I chuckle and nod, “Alright, baby, I’ll be here.”
She spends the next twenty minutes arranging a gift basket for my mom filled with chocolate bread, fruits, wine, fruit juices, and she tops it off with two of her favourite books.
“I hope she likes thrillers; these are really remarkable.” She tells me, frowning, looking everywhere but me.
I pull her to me and hug her softly. She is worming her way deeper into my heart, and I am defenceless against her. I know that no matter what I find out about her, I’ll still be hers, a fool for her. I might pretend not to be, but I’ll be a fool for her.
“Next time, let me know in advance so I can pack something better.” She nudges my shoulders lightly.
I smile, caressing her hips, “Next time, maybe you come with me.”
Her eyes widen slightly, then her cheeks get redder, and she nods, “Okay.”
I laugh and hug her tighter.
Eventually, I leave. The drive to Mom’s place is over an hour. My humour and happiness drain out of me. She doesn’t like where she stays. She wants to go back home, but the city has our home, my father’s land. I’ll get it back for her. I’ll do anything to take her home.
I step out of the car and walk to the door.
I have a security team around her, and a medical team, too.
Her head nurse opens the door and shakes her head, “I’m sorry, Roman. She doesn’t want to see you.”
My chest caves in. I’d called ahead. I’d done everything right, and she is still rejecting me.