The Billionaire Who Stole My Heart

Chapter Thirty-Eight

From the way my mother looked at me, concern was still on her face as her eyebrows furrowed together.

"I knew her," I slowly said. "I knew who she was before she became Alena."

"What do you mean?" Mom asked.

"Do you remember a couple of years ago Dad and I went to London?"

"Yes..." She hesitantly replied. To her, it was the start of my father's declining health. "You guys came back and I just remember your Dad saying how guilty he felt. He never told me why. It hurt so much he could never tell me."

This time her face filled with worry at the thought of Dad. I could see she was deeply confused about what that had to do with anything. So, I explained to her what had happened with Rhys Jacobs. I explained how Rhys wanted Alena and me to be engaged to each other; how Alena was his daughter; how she moved to the Hamptons after he had died. I explained to her how I had known all this time. I explained to her that Alena found out the truth. And how I had messed up. How I had fucked up everything.

"She painted the piece for the end-of-summer ball," I said, placing the pen on the desk. "She didn't respond to the invitation, so I guess, she doesn't want anything to do with me."

"Dorian..." Mom sighed my name. "Have you at least spoken to her?"

I shook my head remembering how I lost some of the contacts on my phone after the security breach. Her number had gone along with some other people.

The office phone rang, halting the rest of the unfinished conversation. Picking it up, Rachel asked whether Mom and I wanted anything for lunch. I looked at the time and realised I hadn't eaten anything today. Turning to Mom, I asked her whether she wanted anything.

"Why not?" She responded. "It's been a while since I had lunch with my baby boy."

"I'll be sure not to tell Alek you said that," I smiled.

Deciding that I would treat Mom to her favourite sushi for our lunch together, the two of us talked about Alek and how he was doing at school. The conversation then drifted to plans Mom had made for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Although the catchup and quality time had kept my mind busy, it had to stop as soon as Mom said she had someplace else to be.

"Sometimes," Mom began, putting her coat back on. "You have to talk to the person you love and tell them how you feel."

"What if they don't want to hear it?"

"Then there's no point wasting your time. But, you are basing it on a what-if. You never know, she could be waiting for you. Talking it out is the easiest thing to do. And miscommunication is the stupidest thing ever." She shook her head as if she was thinking about something from her past. I wanted to ask what she had gone through, but the one thing my mother would always keep from her children was the hurt she had experienced.

"Try not to worry about it," She said as she placed a kiss on my cheek.

I opened the door for her to leave, and I was alone all over again, just like that.

Alena's POV

Saying goodbye to the last of the older ladies from the pensioners' class, I began to fold away the wooden easels. The afternoon sun glowed through the windows, gleaming over all the different artworks.

Entering the back studio, I could see Mr Halliwell with sheets of paper piled in his systemic way. Although he was a retired art critic and gallery owner, he still knew his way around running a place.

"With private visits, all these pieces you're selling and the lessons – you're making quite a lot of money for yourself." Mr Halliwell said as he looked at the last of the statements, invoices and finances.