Obsessed Heir (Billionaire Heirs #4)

Chapter 41

Chapter Forty-One

Abigail

T he chill of the morning pulls me from a heavy sleep. I curl up under the covers, folding my arms around myself to stave off an unexplained sense of loss.

A faint click brings me fully awake. Eyes open wide, I push off the bed, craning my neck to check the entrance.

Seconds go by, but nothing happens. Was I dreaming? Maybe it’s Miss Opal next door, trying to start her day. I pause, listening for any movement from her room, but the silence continues.

Turning back, I reach for my phone on the nightstand to see the time. I groan, seeing the narrow bar on the battery life sitting in red. I should have set it to charge, since I’m traveling today.

Dealing with last night’s revelation left me unable to think straight. Why didn’t I ask Holly when she would come by this morning?

Tossing back the covers, I head to the shower. I have to get ready and go to the shopping area to buy something to wear.

I’ll need to prepare myself for the obscene amount of money I’ll spend the next few hours. And I still have to figure out how to break the news to Miss Opal that I’m leaving. My only consolation so far is that I’ll have solid ground under my feet in a few hours.

I’m barely out of the steaming shower when there’s a knock at the door. I freeze, holding the towel against my chest.

“Abby?” Miss Opal’s voice filters in. Is she up and about? Does she need help to get dressed?

“I’ll be right there,” I call out, quickly tossing away the towel. I grab the robe I slept in, pulling it on as I rush to the door. I tie the belt snugly then turn the knob to find my boss standing there in her robe and silk pajamas, leaning her weight on one foot.

“Miss Opal!” I’ve kept her waiting on me.

“Good morning, dear,” she says with a timid smile. “May I come in?”

“Oh my goodness, yes.” I step aside, letting her in.

Guilt prods at my conscience as she moves across the carpet slowly, favoring her good leg.

“Let me get you a chair. I’m sorry, I haven’t…” I glance toward the rumpled sheets, where the pillows are jammed together haphazardly, a big section flattened. “Made the bed,” I finish, my voice dying away.

“I can make it to the sitting area.” She waves off my concern, carefully lowering herself onto the overstuffed couch.

I turn away, heat flooding my cheeks as I try not to call attention to the fact it looks like two people slept in my bed. Though I’m not quite sure what to make of Miss Opal’s presence, the manners ingrained in me kick in automatically.

“May I offer you a water?” This early in the morning, that wouldn’t be her first choice. “Or coffee? I can run to the kitchen.”

“No, I’m fine.” She settles back into the cushions with a weary sigh, exhausted from the journey over.

After what I learned, I don’t know what to say or do with myself around her.

Sadness seeps into her smile as she prepares to speak. “I wanted to talk to you about what I said yesterday.”

The very last thing I want to discuss. I swallow hard, glancing at the floor as a tense silence stretches between us.

“I’d rather not, if that’s okay,” I mumble, my shoulders hunching.

She remains silent, and I wonder if my heart is going to beat out of my chest.

“I think it’s well past time we talked about it,” she says, leaving no doubt that it’s not merely a suggestion. Then she pats the cushion next to her in clear invitation.

Taking a seat, I fold my arms across my body, hugging myself as I prepare for what’s coming. Even though Miss Opal has given me a home, an education, and a chance at life, I can’t quite look her in the eye at the moment.

“How am I supposed to come to terms with my…him taking money from you?” I whisper, struggling to accept that the man I called Dad had questionable morals at best.

I can’t bring myself to say he sold me to her, even if that’s the naked truth of it. Just as the words cross my mind, another horrible thought twists my stomach. Am I tied to her? For all intents and purposes, she owns me.

“First, let me apologize.” She reaches out to hold my hand gently in her own.

I shake my head vehemently, a lump forming in my throat. “You don’t need to.”

“I shouldn’t have blurted it out the way I did,” she insists, her eyes sad. “I never meant to hurt you, my darling.”

Tears prick at the corners of my own eyes at her words. After everything this kind woman has done for me, put up with because of me, she’s apologizing for saying something that hurt my feelings.

“I know, ma’am.” I sniffle. “I had a little pity party for myself last night.”

“That’s perfectly all right. Sometimes it’s best to let it all out privately,” she soothes, letting me off the hook for walking away.

“I’ve worried about…him.” I can’t even think about him as my father.

“I know, and I’m sorry I kept you in the dark.” She squeezes my hand. “We found out he wasn’t your biological father when we were doing the paperwork for your citizenship. I planned to tell you. I just had no idea how to do so.”

My throat works as I process the details.

“I was nothing more than a big payday to him,” I whisper brokenly. “He’d been telling me all along, but I didn’t understand. When he said I’d grow up and get us out of our miserable existence , I thought he meant I’d be old enough to get a job. That my paycheck would help us live in a better place.”

Miss Opal’s hand tightens around mine, and she shakes her head.

“I don’t know what he was thinking. How he could have thought he could get away with such a despicable plan,” she says with a light shudder.

All I wanted was to buy enough food to fill the pantry. Meanwhile, he thought he could use me as an exchange of goods.

“I’m so sorry you got caught up in this ugly situation,” she murmurs, understanding clear in her expression. “Just give yourself some time to heal.”

Time might heal a lot of things. I’m not sure this is one of them. But since she brought up the subject, this might be the best time to let her know my plan. I take a deep, steadying breath, fearing she’ll be upset.

“I did some thinking last night. I came to the conclusion that I should…head back to Seattle,” I say in a small voice.

Her smile falters, and her brow furrows with concern. “Oh, Abby…”

“Me being here is only causing problems between you and Barron,” I rush to explain. The image of the anger and accusation in his face fills my mind. “This way, you’ll be able to spend time together without any added friction.”

“I had a pity party of my own last night,” she admits with a rueful shake of her head.

“What do you mean?” I ask, jumping at the chance to steer away from the subject of leaving, but I know it’s not the end of the discussion.

She draws in a deep, shuddering breath. “Barron and I sat down and talked, like we should have done months ago. I told him about how ill I was and how you shouldered all the responsibility of keeping our life afloat.”

This is huge. Miss Opal has always prided herself on her independence. Having that conversation with Barron, opening herself up and baring her soul, must have been excruciating.

“It’s only right, Miss Opal. You’re my family,” I assure her. “You’ve been the mother I would have wished for.”

“And you are the daughter I wished for, my sweet girl.” Her smile turns tender and loving. “If you’re truly set on leaving, then I’m ready to go, too.”

Out of anything she could have said, this is the most alarming.

“Miss Opal, no.” I shake my head adamantly, my voice rising with urgency. “You can’t leave. You’re here to spend the time with your son.”

“Abby, the McClelland men don’t spend much time with their mothers, I’m afraid.” Her smile is bittersweet, her lower lip trembling with emotion. “In fact, I’m the first one in generations to have any significant amount of time with her son.”

“That can’t be right.” I frown. Why would she reach that conclusion? Barron obviously loves her, despite his gruff exterior.

“It… It was made very clear to me”—her voice wavers as her eyes well up again and her hands twist in her lap—“when my father accepted money from Barron’s father for me to be his,” she ends in a choked whisper.

When my father accepted money from Barron’s father…

“What?” I croak out as every muscle in my body goes weak.