Let's Play A Dirty Ass Game, Mr. CEO

Chapter 65: HATE IS A STRONG WORD

LAURA

"You refuse to listen to me, so I’ve come to make you listen to me."

My jaw dropped and my eyes stung. "What do you mean? You can’t barge into my workplace without informing me!"

Her eyes flashed but her expression remained calm. "Did you not get my texts? Your father’s health is deteriorating, Laura. You can’t become the bad, vengeful child all of a sudden, when he needs you the most."

I scoffed, shaking my head. "You mean, he needs my money? As much as you do?"

She shrugged, and it was so nonchalant it pierced a hole through my heart once again. "Same difference."

I just opened my mouth to give her a sharp retort when a firm knock sounded on the door.

I rolled my eyes and heaved a sigh of exasperation.

Great. Mara had started sending the interviewees already, and my mother who showed up unexpectedly, still sat there stubbornly, waiting for me to tell her what to do.

"Are you going to give me the room or what?" I snapped. "I have an interview schedule for right now."

She smirked. "I can sit in and watch how you run your shit here. I would like to see how much of a big, scary girl my daughter has become."

This woman had always been a pain in the ass. But it was almost like she got worse as she grew older.

I wanted nothing more than to drag her out of the seat and toss her out of this room, but I knew that there was an interviewee standing outside there, and I couldn’t create a scene. Not right here, not right now.

So I reeled in the waves of frustration as best as I could, and stalked over to my seat. "At least get out of the interviewees’ seat if you’re going to stay in the room."

She leaped up and joined me on my table, taking the seat next to me.

I inhaled deeply and let out the frustration in a whoosh of air. At least I tried. Then I ushered the first one in. "Come in!"

A petite girl with freckles and a thin lip walked in, never taking her eyes off her feet. "Good morning, Ms. Hayes."

"Please have a sit and introduce yourself."

Just like that, the interview sessions commenced and went along quite smoothly until my mother showed she was bored out of her mind.

It was after the fifth candidate walked in. A curvy lady with long legs, a tiny waist and a pretty face, carrying herself politely, with the poise of someone who knew the amount of aura they carried and still chose to remain humble.

After she greeted, I ushered her to a seat. "Please, introduce yourself and tell us why you want this job."

She blinked. Then she cleared her throat. "I’m Layla. Layla Kleinman. And err, I want—I’m not going to beat around the bush and just get straight to the point. I need this job because I want to be able to feed and take care of basic needs. Nothing fancy. I’m quite handy and—"

My mother barked out a wild laugh, shocking both me and Layla.

I shot her a glare, and she quickly snapped her mouth shut, putting a hand over it dramatically. "I’m sorry, really. But trust me, she’s so real. She’s the one for you."

My lips quivered in rage as I dropped my voice to a whisper. "Can you not do this? Please?"

She sighed and leaned back against her seat, looking bored again. "Sorry."

When I turned to Layla, she was watching us with a blank expression, looking unbothered by what just transpired.

She was not so bad...after all. Because I just found another quality I admired in her.

"So, Layla, you were saying?"

She nodded eagerly. "I can take care of any and everything you need. From office tasks to household management. I’m a bit on the OCD side, so I tend to pay extra attention to everything. You wouldn’t have to worry about missing an appointment or a flight."

"Okay," I laughed, amused by her commitment. "Quite the straightforward one, huh?"

She shrugged and quickly caught herself, twisting her lips into an apologetic smile. "I come from a long line of truthers, I guess."

"I think someone like her would be good around the house with Eli."

I whirled on my mother without thinking. "Keep my son’s name out of your mouth."

"Why?" She smirked, and her eyes grew colder, emotionless, bottomless pits. "Should I keep his father’s name out too? Are you ashamed of them?"

I shook my head in disbelief, Layla forgotten for a moment. For a moment, it was just me against the weapon-fashioned-against-me in the name of my mother.

"You’re still the same as ever. Vile, selfish, reckless." I scoffed. "Reminds me just how much I hate you."

She cocked her head, eyes flashing. "Hate is a strong word, Laura. I’m still your mother."

"You stopped being my mother the day you turned your pregnant daughter away!"

"What should I do with your pregnancy when you knew a wealthy man was responsible and could change your life forever, huh?!" She bolted to her feet, her screws visibly falling loose. "That bastard would have changed our lives, that’s why I sent you away! I thought you’d have some sense and go to him but you went to start a fucking fashion business! And now you’re refusing to give us money because you think you’ve done something for yourself and have some power over us! Why your father dies slowly every fucking day!"

I sat there, trembling, staring up at her in disbelief.

My mother was just...never going to change. She was never going to be a better mother to me. It was too fucking obvious.

The tears in her eyes were proofs that she would always be a better wife than a better mother.

She could cry for her dying husband...but could not give two fucks about her daughter who had felt alone and abandoned all her life?

Fucking hilarious. Equal shades of pathetic and ridiculous.

A voice cleared in the room and I whipped my head in shock to see Layla rising to her feet. "Uhm, I think I’ll have to wait outside."

I shoved my fingers through my hair as I pushed to my feet. "I’m sorry, Layla. Please give us a few moments."

"Of course, ma’am." She hurried out, and the moment the door swung shut behind her, I turned to my mother.

"How much is going to be enough to keep you out of my life forever?"

"You can’t keep me out of your life forever, Laura, because you are my price."

My brows pinched together in frustration. "What?"

"No amount of money could measure up to the pains I went through to push you out!"

I shook my head in disbelief. "When are you going to stop blaming me for the choice you made?"

I used to say I never asked to be born, but after I birthed Eli, and knew what to took to bring life to this world, I had to stop using my words recklessly when it came to my mother.

But she always...always had to push me past my fucking limits.

And I hated her for that very reason.