The Under Boss's Ballerina [18+]

50

"Alyssa, you and I, say for dinner in a hotel-"

"My family extends more than my mother and I." I replied. "Or are you that behind?"

"Angelo-"

"I am sorry, I can't accept your invitation." I replied quickly.

"It wasn't an invitation, it was a father's request."

"Don't go acting like that now signore Richardson, you sons and your wife might believe you."

"Son-"

"Don't go requesting about things, I can't keep." I reply. "There is no reason for you to start acting and requesting like a father when you have undoubtedly made it clear that you would rather be absent instead of being a parent."

"What do you say about your birthday-"

"No." I snapped. "Don't you dare-"

"I'm trying to make amends here." He registered, a look of surprise shooting up in his features.

Amends?

Amends for what?

Amends for not acknowledging you have a son for twenty nine years?

Amends for almost pushing the woman carrying your child to toward a self induced death and more self doubt than she could handle?

Amends for just being absent and showing your face when your ass is on fucking fire?

I could sit here and make lists after lists of his amendment but it wouldn't still be enough.

He doesn't get to waltz into my life and refer to himself, mama and I as a family.

There wasn't anything family about us till his fucking will got involved.

And now all of a sudden we're his family?

The impertinence leaves me at a loss for words.

"Don't bother." I replied. "You've missed twenty eight birthdays, one of those again won't hurt you as much, dad."

"Angelo, I an trying to make up for lost time. Time and time again I have said that I was sorry and whatever I did wasn't what I should have done, you need to let me alter my bad decisions."

Bad decisions.

Bad decisions.

Bad decisions.

Bad decisions.

Bad decisions.

"Altering your bad decisions nay include my death as well, dad." I scoffed.

"You can't talk to me that way, Angelo." He warns, a sudden rush of fury washing over him.

Have I hit a nerve, signore?

"I believe it's best if we rest our meeting here." I replied my hands clasped in front of me on the table top. "My answer would be no, if you fail to recognize who my family are."

"Fine." The older man snaps. "Fine. You want your mother's husband while we wine and dine? Sure. Go ahead-"

"That would be my father signore Richardson." I gritted.

How dare he?

"You know, the man whose last name I take, the man who didn't ask my name on my fifth birthday party. The man who raised me, signore?" I ask. "That man."

"Angelo-"

"I sincerely apologise, I have to leave." I replied all of a suddenly  feeling as if the air around me is turning several degrees hotter. As of the air around me is making a mess of my sane thinking.