Mistakenly Yours: Contract Marriage With The Billionaire-Chapter 136: A meal with my daughter

Adam held the smoldering cigar between his fingers as the lawyer he had hired delivered the final news of the divorce settlement.

"I’ve sent another signed copy to your ex-wife’s counsel as well," the lawyer stated, his voice brisk and professional.

"Thank you," Adam replied. "That will be all. You can show yourself out."

As the lawyer’s footsteps faded, Katherine, his mother, entered the room and found her son inhaling deeply from the cigar.

"That thing is a slow poison, Adam. You ought to give it up," she warned, settling into a nearby armchair, holding the top of the polished cane.

Adam let out a plume of smoke. "Everything has been reduced to ashes, Mother. I lost the fight to keep my daughter. My second marriage is a wreck. And now my ex-wife resurfaces with God knows what new motives." He gestured vaguely around the room. "The joy of this house... it feels like it’s been extinguished, doesn’t it?"

He paused, his eyes narrowing as a deeper thought surfaced. "But when I am truly honest with myself, I finally understand what Sara said. This house was never truly filled with joy. We merely occupied it, living with hollow hearts. You made certain that Marcella and her children were never really accepted as family."

"Adam, that is utterly unfair," Katherine countered with offense. "Marcella made it clear she never wanted Sara or me in this house. How many times must I repeat that? If I can find affection for Sara, why on earth wouldn’t I for Diego and Frida? But they were the ones who always viewed Sara as an obstruction."

"Children imitate what they witness, Mother," Adam stated, the fatigue evident in his voice. "Every one of us played a part in this mess." He looked away, considering his words before speaking again. "Why don’t you go stay with Hannah for a little while?"

Katherine’s confusion hardened into wounded pride. "What are you implying?" she demanded, standing up abruptly. "Do you think my presence is suddenly a nuisance to you?"

Adam offered no reply.

Katherine gathered her dignity and left the room, the door closing softly behind her.

Left alone, Adam picked up his phone from the desk and immediately scrolled to Sara’s contact. He dialed. The response was exactly what he anticipated. The line was still busy, meaning she hadn’t unblocked his number.

He sighed, finally crushing the last of the cigar into the crystal ashtray. His assistant tapped discreetly and walked in.

"Sir, should I have lunch served in here for you?"

"I have no appetite," Adam commanded, pushing himself to his feet. "But ensure my mother takes her meals." He turned, walking away from the desk and deeper into the room.

~~~~

Sara and Luca arrived at the airport. She checked her phone and saw a notification indicating a number had tried to call, realizing instantly it was her father, the number she had blocked. A sudden, unexpected wave of worry washed over her.

Quickly unblocking the number, she dialed it. The line rang repeatedly, but there was no answer. Just as she was about to hang up, her father’s voice, rough and broken, as if strained by illness, finally sounded on the other end.

"Sara!" Adam’s voice came through.

"Dad, what happened to your voice? Why do you sound so low?" Sara questioned, concern instantly overriding her resentment. She had wanted to speak with him after visiting her mother, but the moment had never felt right.

"I’m fine, yes. Will you... will you visit me this evening?" Adam asked. "I know you want nothing to do with me, but as your father, I have to try and set things right. I wanted to share a meal with my daughter."

Sara was utterly bewildered by the sincerity and defeat in her father’s words. Her heart ached after listening to her father’s voice.

"Dad, I’m heading to Italy for some business. I’m literally at the airport right now," Sara explained, running a frustrated hand through her hair. Luca walked up beside her, noticing the troubled look on her face.

"I understand. Then, please, come see me as soon as you return from Italy," Adam asserted. "I’ll hang up then. Take care." The line went dead. Sara slowly lowered her hand, her gaze fixed on the phone screen.

"Who was that?" Luca asked, looking down at her.

"My father," Sara replied. "He wanted me to come home and have a meal with him. But... We’re flying out now."

"Then we can postpone the trip until tomorrow," Luca offered, clearly seeing the internal conflict. He knew that despite her anger, she cared deeply for her father, it was plain to see in her expression.

"He asked me to visit him after returning from Italy. I expect we’ll be back by tomorrow afternoon, won’t we?" Sara mused.

"Yes, we will," Luca confirmed.

"Then, we’ll go straight to Dad’s place tomorrow evening once we’re back," Sara decided.

"Sounds like a plan," Luca agreed. She quickly typed a text message to her father, confirming she would come to see him the following evening. "Let’s go then. We have to check in," he affirmed.

Sara nodded and walked ahead with him.

~~~~

Marcella stared at the divorce papers, and a single tear traced a path down her cheek, quickly followed by others. She wiped her face roughly, shoved the document into a nearby cupboard, and let out a shaky sigh.

Sinking onto the edge of the bed, she was overcome by the stark realization that every major choice she had made had been wrong. Adam had never deprived her of anything, save for fully embracing her children’s needs in the family dynamics.

But she, in turn, had been cruel to Sara and her mother-in-law. She couldn’t tolerate their presence in the house and had actively poisoned her own children’s minds.

"I have to stop Frida before she does any more damage," Marcella murmured, blinking back fresh tears. "Because of my hatred, she developed this intense bitterness toward Sara."

She stood up, searching for her phone. Finding it on the living room table, she picked it up and immediately dialed Frida’s number.

However, Frida did not answer her call.

Marcella knitted her brows together in frustration and called Diego instead. A few moments later, he picked up.

"Yes, Mom?" Diego asked, balancing a stack of documents in one hand.

"We need to put a stop to Frida," Marcella urged, her voice strained. "She planned all of this, and look at the wreckage we’ve created. We should have stopped her then, too, but we were blinded by our own ambition."

"Mom, please calm down. Frida is probably just in her office. She has her own business to manage," Diego told her, stepping away from the loud printing machine. He glanced around quickly, ensuring none of his colleagues saw him on a personal call. He had finally landed this job after a friend’s recommendation; though the position was minor, he couldn’t afford to lose it.

"Frida won’t stop herself. Just promise me you’ll check on her activities," Marcella insisted.

"I’ll talk to her this evening. I’m working right now, Mom, so let’s talk later." Diego ended the call abruptly and slid his phone into his pocket.

He returned to his desk, gathered the remaining documents, punched them together neatly, and inserted them into a file.

The distressed tone in his mother’s voice had unsettled him. He pulled out his phone again, quickly typed a concerned message to Frida, and placed the phone back on the desk.

"Diego, this is for you."

He lifted his gaze. Laurel was standing there, holding a latte cup. She handed him the cup along with a creamy bun. "Here you go."

"You really didn’t have to buy this," Diego said, surprised.

"You can buy me next time," Laurel responded with a quick, bright smile, then moved back toward her own desk.

’I wonder if she’s interested in me,’ he thought, a slight smile curving his lips. He enjoyed the creamy bun and the latte. Once finished, he tossed the cup and the bun’s paper wrap into the bin before heading toward the restroom.

As he pushed the restroom door ajar, he immediately caught the sound of his male colleagues gossiping about him.

"So Diego is getting the boot from Luca? I heard that gossip straight from a friend working at Falcone Industries."

"Seriously? Wait, isn’t he Sara’s stepbrother?"

"Yeah, haven’t you heard? The guy was caught embezzling funds from his stepfather’s company. Who knows what he might try to pull here. I honestly wonder whose recommendation was strong enough to even land him this job."

Diego took an immediate step back, retreating silently from the restroom door. He quickly walked toward the empty rooftop terrace of the building. Once there, he leaned against the railing, taking several long, deep breaths. He nervously licked his lips; his heart was palpitating with anxiety.

He couldn’t blame anyone for this messed-up situation but himself. With his decision made, he returned to his desk, typed out a resignation letter, emailed it immediately to the manager, and left the company premises without looking back.