Risqué Business (Club Risqué #8)

Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

C hristian paced across the floor of his living room, then paced all the way back again. His mother was due to arrive at any moment, and after all the time waiting and hoping, he wasn’t sure if he was ready.

“Sit down and relax, Christian,” Trinity said softly, stopping him in his tracks and reaching up to knead his tight shoulders. “It’s not like it’s the first time you’ve seen her recently.”

Pulling Trinity to him, he wrapped her in his arms and buried his face in her neck. “I know,” he mumbled. “But now is the time we get answers.”

They hadn’t done that at the wedding. It had neither been the time nor the place. And immediately afterwards, they’d left for a two-week honeymoon.

Now a month had passed, and Christian was unaccountably nervous. As much as he’d wanted his mother to be present for his wedding, he realised he had a lot of unresolved feelings around her actions. “I’m… just not sure what the hell she can say that will make things right, Trin. I thought I wanted this, but now the questions about where she’s been and why she did what she did are circling around in my brain and I can’t let them go.”

He rubbed his hands over his face. “Fuck. Perhaps it would have been better if I'd left well enough alone.”

“No!” Trinity said sharply. “I know you would have regretted not bothering. That’s why I allowed the wedding to be put off for so long and did what I could to find her myself.”

“You did too much,” Christian muttered with a frown. “I shouldn’t have allowed it.”

Trinity drew back and jammed her hands on her hips. “Oh no. Don’t you take that line with me, buddy. That’s what I do. I’m a service submissive, and I thrive on doing for others.”

“Yes, but I should have…”

“No!” The word was like a bullet, and Christian could see his wife building up one hell of a head of steam. “You should have nothing,” she threw at him. “I am what I am, but I’m also perfectly capable of making my own decisions. Nobody gets to do that anymore except me. Not unless we’re in a scene. That’s the reality I built for myself, and you don’t get to take that away by assuming control.”

Christian held his palms in front of him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply…”

“I should hope not, buster. Or we’re going to have a problem.”

Damn, even her righteous scowl was adorable.

Christian tugged her back into his arms and dropped a kiss onto her upturned nose, breaking the tension between them. “Remind me not to get on your bad side,” he said with a soft smile.

Trinity shrugged. “It’s the pregnancy hormones. They make me spunky.”

“I can make you spunky,” Christian chuckled, nibbling on the lobe of her ear. “And I bet it would be a lot more fun.”

Trinity swatted his shoulder, but her smile told him she wasn’t really mad. “You’re incorrigible. Anyone would think…”

Whatever she was going to say was cut off by the doorbell, and Christian stiffened.

Trinity went on tiptoes and pressed a short, sweet kiss on his lips. “I’ll get it,” she told him, giving him a supportive squeeze.

Christian stopped himself from pacing again and willed himself to relax — easier said than done. He heard voices coming closer. Heard Trinity and his mother exchanging pleasantries as if Krista hadn’t been absent from both of their lives for the past six years. Then, finally she was in front of him, and all the questions dried up on Christian’s lips.

“Why don’t we sit and have some refreshments,” Trinity suggested, gesturing to the spread she’d already prepared. Glad of something to occupy him, Christian headed for the table before realising he hadn’t even greeted his mother.

Damn it all. This was what he’d wanted. Why was it so hard?

He sat, fidgety and uncomfortable, while Trinity poured drinks, tapping his fingers on the table as he tried to get himself under control. Trinity gave him a soft look. She knew he was struggling. Scooting her chair closer, she covered his hand with hers, gave it a squeeze, and threaded their fingers. He threw her a grateful look, then turned back to his mother, who was staring at their joined hands.

It was Trinity - of course - who cut through the tension. “We’ve been worried about you, Krista. And trying to make contact with you for a long time.”

His mother’s eyes glassed up, and she looked down at her trembling hands.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered in a fractured voice. “I didn’t mean to cause so much fuss…” She paused, and he could see her regulate her breathing, mentally pulling herself together. If he was honest, Christian was kind of surprised she hadn’t dissolved into histrionics at being put on the spot. That was more what he would have expected.

Instead, his mother took a deep breath and started her story.

“Things got so bad,” she told them in a small, but surprisingly strong voice. “Bianca was just awful…” Christian tensed at the name of his ex-wife, but Trinity squeezed his hand, and he remained silent.

Krista paused, gathering herself. “You have to understand, Christian… I thought she spoke for you back then. With counselling and the ability to see more clearly, I came - belatedly - to realise that wasn’t the case. But before that, I did everything she asked. I sent Taryn away…”

She looked guiltily at Trinity. “I stopped calling you. I even lent her money…”

Christian couldn’t contain the growl that issued from his throat at that information.

“I’m afraid it all got too much. She hounded me all the time. Told me she was the only thing keeping you from disowning me because I was too needy. Too flaky. She would come around and taunt me with the fact that you didn’t come with her, telling me you didn’t want to see me.” Krista’s voice cracked, and she blinked away the tears that had formed in her eyes.

Christian felt renewed anger at his ex-wife, disgusted that she could harass someone like that, but it was Trinity who reached out her hand to soothe and calm Krista.

“In the end,” Krista said in a hushed voice. “I ended up having a nervous breakdown.”

A pained, animal noise echoed through the room, but at first, Christian didn’t realise it was him. Not until Trinity slipped her arms around him and hugged him tight, then did the same for his mother.

“I went to a secure establishment,” she continued her story. “I wanted to let you know, but because of the circumstances, my therapist insisted that wasn’t the best thing for my mental health. I agreed to cut all ties…” She let out a small sob. “It was only supposed to be a temporary thing. Just until I was better, and my anxiety was under control. The fees were extortionate, so I decided to rent out the estate.” She shook her head. “You’d never believe what these rich Arabs are prepared to pay for that kind of real estate.”

“You didn’t sell the house?” Christian whispered, hardly able to believe what he was hearing.

Krista shook her head, looking completely shocked. “Of course not! It’s your birthright.”

Christian felt his own eyes sting. He thought he’d come to terms years ago with the loss of his family home. To find out that wasn’t the case was almost overwhelming. It was the place where he wanted to bring up his own kids, and he couldn’t help but pull Trinity to him, resting his head on her stomach where their child grew as she stood between his legs and stroked his hair.

Eventually, he let Trinity go so she could return to her seat. Krista drew in a deep breath and carried on with her heartbreaking story. “Unfortunately, the damage to my health had already been done. Nine months later, I had a severe stroke.”

Christian hadn’t believed it was possible to hurt any more, or to hate his ex more than he already did, but in that moment, he knew he was wrong. He fisted his hands on the table so hard that his knuckles turned white, and he was surprised he didn’t shatter a tooth with how hard his jaw was clenched. He wanted to hug his mother; soothe and reassure her, but right now he was just too riled up.

Trinity brushed his arm, and Christian made a concerted effort to calm himself.

“In a lot of ways, I was lucky. You know how they say your best chance at recovering from a stroke is how quickly it’s dealt with? Well, my care was immediate. Literally. If I’d been anywhere else at all, I might not have been so lucky. But I was treated straight away, and my rehabilitation was really nothing short of a miracle.”

Christian took a closer look at his mother. He’d noticed the slight shuffle to her walk when she’d come in, and how she’d leaned heavily on a walking stick, but he’d attributed those things to age. Searching her face, he noticed how one eyelid drooped a little more than the other, how her tenuous smile was a little lopsided.

“It was hard going at first. I couldn’t walk or talk, and they feared I never would. But I had my own impetus,” she told him with a smile. “You.”

Christian’s breath stuttered in his chest.

“Because we’d never reconnected after the breakdown, and I didn’t have the mental capacity to reverse that decision, I was determined to get better so I could see you again. So you’d know everything that happened. It spurred me on. Gave me something to live for. Especially since I’d already been told Bianca was no longer around.”

She pursed her lips. “Of course, because of the company, everything was kept secret. I’d signed off on that, too. But the board insisted on taking it to the extreme because they didn’t want the share price to fall if the news of my incapacitation got out, and I wasn’t in a fit enough state to do anything about it at the time. It broke my heart that they kept it from you. But my therapist supported that decision, and for a while, I’m afraid I wasn't in control of my own choices, and I was put under a conservatorship controlled by my therapist.”

Christian did his best to regulate his breathing. That his mother had been in this position, incapacitated and unable to make decisions for herself and placed under a system which deliberately prevented his own involvement, solely because of Bianca had him almost hyperventilating in his abject fury. His soul screamed at the dreadful injustice of it all. Of the years lost. Time that might have genuinely taken his mother from him, had things gone differently.

It was only Trinity with her steadfast presence and solid support that kept him grounded.

“But you made it to the wedding,” his wife prompted softly, stating the words he couldn’t get out of his own mouth.

Krista nodded. “Just,” she replied, shakily. “Only just. The conservatorship was legally agreed for a term of five years. Technically, it still has another year until it terminates. But it wasn’t put in place for malicious reasons, and as soon as I received word that you and Christian were together, that you were getting married, I started petitioning to be allowed to attend. True, it wasn’t as easy as simply making that choice for myself. I had to convince Doctor Maurice that I was in a good enough place, both physically and mentally, to be able to do so. And that process wasn’t as swift as I’d hoped since he insisted on a regulated return to day-to-day social activities to prove it wasn’t too much, and it wouldn’t overwhelm me and set me backwards.”

“Which one was it? Trinity asked, almost lost in thought. She focussed properly on Krista. “Which letter or invitation got through to you?”

“The one at Dad’s grave.” That was Christian’s guess, but his mother shook her head.

“No, sadly, I wasn’t deemed mentally stable enough to visit your father’s grave,” she said with a sniffle. “Doctor Maurice felt Alan’s death was the starting point of my mental decline, and I’m afraid he’s probably right.” She turned her gaze on Trinity and smiled, reaching over and taking her hand. “It was actually the invitation you sent to the manor house. Everything else was strictly regulated, especially any correspondence via the company. But the people renting the estate were nearing the end of their contract, and I’d been telling Maurice that I wanted to return home. They’d added the invitation in with the termination documents, which were one of the things I’d been able to resume control over…”

Her voice broke over a sob. “I can’t tell you how happy I was when I saw it. I really did think I was hallucinating at first. I had to get one of the other residents to read it to me to confirm I hadn’t lost the plot.”

“Ah, Mum.” Christian rose from his chair and walked around the table, pulling Krista up and into his arms. “I didn’t mean for any of this to cause you upset all over again. I just wanted you to be there.”

“And I’m so glad you did. It was the final impetus I needed to get my life back on track. I’m afraid to say I may have become a little too comfortable and complacent of my situation. Simply accepting it for what it was, and no longer reaching for anything more. Your wedding gave me something to reach for once again.”

“I love you, mum. I’m so sorry things happened the way they did.”

She patted his back, and Christian was aware of Trinity at his side. He lifted his arm and pulled her into a group hug that included a lot of very suspicious sniffling from all parties.

“So, what happens now?” he asked roughly when the three of them had pulled themselves together.

“I’m moving back home,” Krista said decisively. “Initially, I have to have a ‘companion,’ as Doctor Maurice likes to call it. Just until I can prove I’m fully capable. Then, I plan to step down from the company. Honestly, I’d have done that years ago, when I first got ill, if I’d had the chance. But that decision was out of my hands, and the conservatorship wasn’t comfortable making such sweeping changes in case they were accused of mismanagement.”

Krista’s eyes dropped to the swell of Trinity’s baby bump, and her eyes welled anew. “And then, I very much hope I’ll be able to play grandma to this little one,” she whispered, blinking rapidly, but with happy tears this time.

Christian slung an arm around the shoulder of both his mother and his wife, kissing each of their heads. “That sounds absolutely perfect,” he said, his voice husky with emotion. “I can’t think of anything better.”