CHAPTER FIFTY

“No, you’re not a bad person, you just made a   mistake and everyone does, luckily we can still fix this,” he encouraged, but where was I going to start searching for her now?

“Are you hungry?” He asked and I slightly pulled away, shaking my head indicating a no.

“Alright, do you want to sleep, take a shower or maybe watch a film?” He was trying to make me feel better.

“No I’m fine, I just want to find Loren.” I told him and at that moment he received a phone call, he pulled away to pick.

“Boss, we found her location,” the person on the other end said, it was on loudspeaker so I could hear their conversation clearly.

“That’s great news, send me the location now,” Clinton responded — I didn’t understand what was going on.

“Done, boss, one of our planes with all the goods crashed.”

“Relate all issues to Don,” He abruptly said and hung up, turning to me, “they found her,” He informed me, I was still clueless so I squinted my eyes.

“Loren, they found her location she’s..”

“Oh Loren, where? Let’s go now!” I stood up as my heart started beating faster.

“Love it’s already late, I promise to take you tomorrow as it’s in another city.” 

“I don’t care, you have a jet, let it take us there,” I insisted, “or if you don’t want to, I'll go on my own,” I attempted to walk out but he was quick to stop me holding my wrist.

“Alright fine, I’ll take you,” He said and walked me out.

I was shocked to see that all my things were in their right places.

I didn’t get a chance to comment as Clinton led me out and locked the door. We headed out to the parking area, everyone we passed by eyed us without a word until we were a distance from them then they gossiped — mainly talking bad about me.

“Don’t listen to them, they are just fucking jealous,” Clinton, now holding my hand tighter, said to me as he kissed my cheeks before opening the passenger’s door for me and I hopped in, he joined me as he settled in the driver's seat before starting the car.

“Are you comfortable?” He sweetly asked and I nodded lying as I was nervous. 

The ride was silent until he turned the car to his penthouse, “why are we here?” I panicked at the thought of Loren being here.

“We need our passports,” he said pulling over, then his phone rang, “I have to get this.”

“Alright, I’ll be inside,” I said, getting out of the car and heading inside. I was scared but at the same time curious.

I walked up the stairs then reaching the door I stopped to breathe, after taking deep breaths I turned the doorknob only for the door to be opened from inside.

“You’re back,” it was Mrs Smith, she blocked the entrance.

“I’m here for my passport please,” I told her and an evil smile appeared on her lips.

“I see you’ve decided to leave,” she sounded happy, “you were never a good fit for my son,” she said, eyeing me from toe to head — I swear if looks could kill I could be dead by now. 

“Why did you do it? How did you find out Clinton and I were not on good terms? How did you get Clinton to sign the divorce papers?” I asked all that at once, I needed answers.

“I don’t owe you any explanations, but because it gives me pleasure I’ll answer your questions,” she said now looking at my face, I pretended to be strong and not shed tears.

“First of all, I did it to protect my son, I know exactly how people like you are. Once you get what you want, you move on leaving us heartbroken and as long as I’m alive, I won’t let that happen to my son.”

I was now curious, so I remained silent not wanting to stop her.

“As for how I found out, Clinton is my son he tells me everything including your complicated pregnancy. You have nothing but a dead womb inside of you as for how I got him to sign the papers, I just had to pretend it was part of the company and act like I liked you and if you saw the date, he signed them on the night of the dinner, the day I made that fake welcome back home dinner.” 

She didn’t have any regret or guilt conscious in her tone, with the way she spoke I could tell just how much she hates me — but why?

“Why do you hate me so much?” I asked, tears welling in my eyes.

“No no no darling I don’t hate you, I despise you. I wish you could just disappear or die.” 

“Wh— what have I ever done to you? I know I ruined your family’s reputation but before that you’ve always hated me, you never liked me from the start, why?” I asked in a broken tone as I wiped away my tears.

“Nothing,” she said with a wicked smile, “but I enjoy seeing you suffer and I’m not gonna stop until one of us dies.”

“You’re a wicked mother,” I accused, she looked at me internally before her big hand landed on my face. I could feel the stinging pain in my ears too.

“Don’t you ever call me that ever again or what you’ll get next time will be more than just a slap,” her pointing finger was on me, I had my hand still on my face, tears rolling down my cheeks freely.

“Kill me, maybe that will make you feel like a real mother,” I still challenged her, since I couldn’t lay a finger on her for the respect, I still could provoke her.

“You know what, maybe I should. I mean it could be easy, you're nobody. I could come up with a story for my son and cover my tracks but I won’t. What good will that do for me? I need you alive, I need you to suffer, losing your job and my son was my first step. You don’t know what I have in store for you.” 

“What do you have in store for us, mother?” Clinton interrupted.