Chapter 14
Anna’s POV:
78%
I hurried through the restaurant doors to VIP Room Three, following the address my mom’s secretary had given me.
When I pushed open the heavy oak door, the scene that greeted me made my stomach clench. My mother–elegant, composed Lillian Anderson–sat surrounded by four men in expensive suits, all holding crystal glasses. Despite her immaculate appearance, I could see the tension in her shoulders.
“Another toast to our future partnership,” one of the men said, his smile not reaching his eyes.
Mom lifted her champagne, but I caught the slight tremor in her wrist.
“Anna!” Frank Hamilton’s deep voice boomed from behind me. “It’s been ages since we last saw each other!”
The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly. The men turned, and their expressions changed at the sight of the distinguished man standing behind me.
“Mr. Hamilton,” one of them stammered. “We didn’t know you were joining.”
Frank placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. “When my goddaughter calls, I make time.”
The memory of my father’s voice floated back to me: “Frank’s agreed to be your godfather, Anna. He’ll look after you both when I’m gone.”
I’d been sixteen when Dad had driven me to Frank’s estate, only for Mom to call halfway there, her voice tight with anger. Dad had turned the car around, and we’d never spoken of it again. Three months later, he was dead.
Frank Hamilton was a legend in Boston–the city’s most successful venture capitalist, never married, no children. The perfect godfather my father had wanted for me, to protect us when he knew his health was failing. The godfather my mother had rejected for reasons she’d never explained.
Now, Frank settled into the chair at the head of the table.
“Gentlemen, I understand there’s some issue with monitoring equipment for BlueWave Technologies?” His tone was casual, but his eyes were sharp.
“Just routine funding talks for/repairs,” one man offered weakly.
Frank nodded thoughtfully./I see: Well, I’d hate for any… misunderstandings… to upset my goddaughter.” He glanced at me, then back at them. “Perhaps this matter requires specialized
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Chapter 14
attention.”
The men couldn’t leave the table fast enough, suddenly finding urgent business elsewhere. They remained standing, no longer daring to sit in Frank’s presence.
I looked at my mother, expecting relief, but her eyes never left Frank. Her knuckles were white around her champagne flute, and something in her expression unsettled me.
I remembered Blake’s business advice: “Business is about relationships, not burning
bridges.” However effective Frank’s approach was, it might create problems for Mom’s future business dealings. These men needed a way to save face.
“Gentlemen,” I stepped forward and raised my glass. “I’m Anna Wright. I hope we can find a solution that benefits everyone. After all, Anderson Medical has always valued its long–term partnerships.”
My intervention worked. After clinking glasses and sharing a drink, the tension eased, and within twenty minutes, the men were scheduling a proper meeting with Mom’s legal team, not a hint of their earlier aggression remaining.
As they filed out, I caught my mother’s gaze, expecting approval. Instead, her expression remained strained, her eyes darting between Frank and me.
“You’ve grown into a remarkable woman, Anna,” Frank said, finishing his scotch. “Your father would be proud.”
A warm glow spread through my chest.
With Frank’s help, I’d protected my mother without needing Blake–proof I could stand on my own. I’d send Blake divorce papers tomorrow.
“I should get going,” Frank said, checking his watch. “Important call in an hour.”
I walked him to the elevators, fighting unexpected tears. I wasn’t sure why I was emotional–perhaps just the relief of resolving Mom’s problem.
I went back to the VIP room with a smile, but the slap caught me completely by surprise.
My cheek stung, and I staggered backward. Mom stood before me, her hand still raised, her face
contorted with fury.
“Mom?” My voice cracked as tears sprang to my eyes. “You slapped me?”
“Didn’t I tell you never to contact Frank?” she hissed, trembling with rage. “Anna, have you completely stopped listening to me? You’re ignoring everything I say!”
I touched my burning cheek in disbelief. “What was I supposed to do? Watch you being bullied?
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Watch you run around desperately with no way out? Mom! I’m your daughter! How could you hit me without even hearing my side?”
“Aren’t you married?” she snapped. “Is your husband dead? If you really cared about me, why would you go to Frank instead of Blake?”
“Mom, I’ve told you, I’m divorcing Blake! He doesn’t love me!”
My mother’s face darkened. “Do you think marriage is a game? You marry and divorce whenever you want? What about my reputation?”
The hurt in my chest hardened into something sharper. “Mom… is your social standing more
important than your daughter’s happiness?”
“First, you are not getting divorced.” Her voice was steel. “I’m calling Blake right now to come get you. Second, you can have anyone as your godfather, but not Frank Hamilton. I’ll repay him for today’s favor, but if I ever find out you’ve contacted him again, I’ll no longer consider you my
daughter!”
“Mom!” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Dad wanted to entrust us to his old friend when he knew he was dying! Why can’t I accept Frank as my godfather? If there’s bad blood between you two, can’t you just tell me directly instead of ordering me around? I’m an adult now, I can make my own judgments! And Blake and I are absolutely over. If you force me to stay with him, then maybe we should end our mother–daughter relationship too!”
I didn’t wait for her response. I grabbed my purse and fled, tears blurring my vision. Outside, a fine
drizzle had started, the cold drops mingling with my tears.
Mom’s words had cut me open like a blade. In all my years growing up, she’d never raised a hand to me–not once. Now, one slap had shattered everything I thought I knew about our relationship.
She doesn’t care about me at all. Just her precious social standing.
Somehow, I made it to my Back Bay apartment–the place my father had given me when I turned
eighteen. This place felt more like home than the Seaside Manor ever had, despite living there with Blake for years.
I barely made it through the door before my legs gave out. I sank onto my bed, my body completely
drained, and curled up without eyen closing the room door.
The sharp, insistent beeping of the security system jolted me awake. The apartment was dark, and
for a moment, I didn’t know where I was.The digital clock on my nightstand read 3:17 AM.
The security panel by the door flashed red. Someone was trying to enter the access code.
Fear gripped me as I realized how vulnerable I was–a woman alone in an apartment, no one
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knowing I was here.
“Who is it?” I called out.
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