Wild Bastard by Ella Savitskaya (most popular ebook readers .txt) 📗

45

Marina

"Are you sure you don't want me to talk to him first?"

Matthew stops the engine right in front of a house just about as luxurious as theirs. Only about half the size.

My heart is pounding like a jackhammer under my ribs. In fact, I have no need to meet the person who left me on the doorstep of the orphanage, but all my life I have trivially wanted to know why. What was the reason for leaving his child?

"No, I want to see his reaction. Not prepared in advance, but the very first. To be caught off guard"

Matthew nods approvingly, we get out of the car and walk down the narrow path. It's strange, but it' hard to take the steps. I always thought that if I found my father, I wouldn't worry, because he was a stranger to me.

What do you love your parents for? For their love and affection. For their willingness to support you in times of need or punish you for bad behavior. Parents are the people who have seen all your bumps and continue to be there to keep you safe from the next.

I've been my own father and mother all my life. But for some reason, now, as I approach the house of a complete stranger, the jitters attack every cell in my body. A faint hope floats in the air, creeping up my nose and spreading like a virus through my body. Hope that I won't be rejected, though that's exactly what I'm preparing myself for.

Matthew's fingers braid tightly around mine. No matter what follows, I will always be eternally grateful to him.

The door is opened by an older woman, followed by a stout man with gray hair on his temples and an expensive suit.

I'm starting to run out of air, because I already know it's him.

"Matthew?" Spreading his arms out to the sides, the man approaches us.

"Good day, Mr. Hall!"

"Good day! What brings you to me? Even not alone."

After greeting Matthew with a firm handshake, the tenacious gaze of his dark eyes is digging into me. I do not know why, but I creep. It's probably the insincere smile that's to blame.

"Why don't you show us into your office? We'll talk there!" Matt suggests in an admonishing tone, which results in a look of surprise on the elderly man's face.

"Of course, come on in!"

A rather dark office greets us with businesslike restraint. I do not notice how I start to peel off the nail polish, as I sit down in a leather armchair. Matthew takes a seat right on the armrest, not leaving me alone even now.

"Well, young people, tell me! What brings you here? "

The man sits across from me and clasps his hands in a businesslike manner. I can't even think of calling him father.

"It's been a long time coming, Liam. Or should I call you Peter Mills?"

Matthew is not generous with unnecessary introductions. He hits him straight in the forehead, taking him by surprise and making the master of the house freeze and stare at him with a testing, icy gaze.

"What do you mean, son? "

"Don't pretend you don't understand. We're not here to play riddles with you."

"What are you here for?"

"We're here for the clues."

The look in his brown eyes once again moves to me. I have to swallow, as my throat becomes incredibly dry.

"You? And what clues can I give you specifically? "

 The man emphasizes the last word in a slightly harsh tone, making it clear that the question is directed specifically to me.

"Nineteen years ago, you left a little girl on the doorstep of the orphanage"

The words had to be forced out of me. It's strange, but I don't think I've ever felt so vulnerable. As if I were facing a firing squad.

His pampered face flashes with a look of unconcealed surprise, or rather daze, quickly replaced by understanding. In truth, there is not a hint of the anticipated joy.

"Matthew," he turns his gaze over my head instead of answering me, "Could you leave us alone for a while?"

"Why?"

"Matthew," I look up to meet the attentive gaze, "it's okay."

"I'll ask Juli to make you some coffee" I hear courteously from outside.

"I'm fine."

When we are alone in the office, all politeness evaporates from my father's appearance. It's as if he was holding a mask and now decides to get rid of it. The man suddenly rests his elbows on the desk and lowers his voice, probably afraid that Matthew might hear him.

"What do you want?"

It was probably at that moment that I realized, in an avalanche, that I wanted absolutely nothing from this man. I could tell by the disdainful way his gaze flickers over me, making me feel like a bug. His cracked lips curve, his tone contemptuous.

"Nothing."

"Yeah?" The man grins, pulling his face even closer so that I could see the deep wrinkles around his eyes, "And I don't think so. What's your name? "

"Don't you remember?"

"No. I prefer not to keep unnecessary information in my memory."

The first bullet pierces the heart.

"Then why do you need this information now? " I don't try to sound polite anymore, either.

"No reason indeed. Good girl. Now listen. I don't know how you got to Cahlon or how you found me. But remember once and for all, if you've come for alimony, you can forget about it now. I won't give you a penny."

I feel as if a granite slab has been dropped on my chest. My lungs tighten under the weight of the accusations I'd heard.

"I don't want your money."

A mocking smirk colors the face of the man I'd hoped to find for years.

"Well, yes, of course you do. If you didn't need it, you wouldn't be here."

I realize I can't be alone with him anymore. It's one thing to have strangers accuse you of all the mortal sins, and it's quite another to have someone of your own blood do it.

I get up out of my chair and head for the door, when just before I get out I stop and turn around. I have to know. It's a question that's been haunting me since I was a child. My fingernails dig bloody into my palm as I utter the cherished question:

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