~Riccardo's POV~
I had everything I needed to take Thomas Brown down, but each time I caught a glimpse of the traumatized lady at the back of my car, I felt my chest tighten in a way I couldn't control.
Everything had gone according to plan. I already knew of Anne's past, the abuse she'd been through, and that was exactly why I had chosen her. Knowing Thomas Brown, I was certain he would react to seeing his ex wife at his dinner party. And with everything I'd found out so far about Anne Allistair, I was certain she wouldn't want him anywhere near her. Thomas's ego was big and fragile, it was no surprise why he could barely control his temper.
However, what I didn't expect was just how much worse things had been. For Anne to be this shaken after that encounter, it meant she had probably been put through much worse by that man.
I took my eyes off the road for a second and caught a peek through the rear view mirror. She was still shaken from everything, still unable to sit up or stop trembling. Had I gone too far with this stunt of mine? Or was I simply overthinking things. Thomas Brown's company, Skye industries, had begun to reach heights that threatened the progress of mine, it was only logical that I did whatever I could to stay ahead of the competition. This was business, and I was sure Anne understood that as well.
Yet, why did I feel guilty, why did I feel like I owed her more than just an apology. I turned back to the road, determined to distract myself with something else. But the thought persisted.
"Anne," I said finally, my voice lower than usual, almost uncertain.
She didn't answer right away, or at least I didn't think she could at the moment. Her fingers fidgeted against the fabric of her gown, then stilled. "You planned that, didn't you?" Her tone was soft but laced with quiet hurt. "You knew something like that would happen..."
Anne wasn't dense, and from our conversation earlier today I knew she wasn't the type of person to sit back and take nonsense. I already expected this response from her, yet somehow I wasn't fully prepared to face it. It was a first for me, I usually didn't care much about people who didn't hold much value to my life, but something about her made me feel differently.
I didn't reply immediately, because the easy thing would be to lie, and for the first time in years, I couldn't bring myself to.
"Yes," I admitted. "I knew."
Silence again. But this time it felt colder.
Her voice trembled when she finally spoke. "You used me."
My chest tightened. "I didn't mean for it to go that far," I said, eyes fixed on the road ahead. "I thought—"
"You thought it'd be good for business," she finished for me, her voice breaking on the last word.
I swallowed hard, unsure of what to say to her next. I didn't want to sound insensitive, and it felt like anything else I said at that point would make things worse.
After a long minute, I finally lifted my head to see her through the rear mirror once more. "I'm sorry about everything, I had no idea it was that bad—"
"I know, people like you don't think much about anything or anyone besides yourself. I can't say I'm surprised, I was just stupid to think I was strong enough to face him again." She cut me off.
Her words struck deeper than I expected. I had heard worse things said about me, but something about the way Anne said it, the quiet disappointment threading through her voice, made my throat tighten. But she was wrong about one thing, I did know how it felt to be in abusive relationship. The fear that I might turn out just like the monster that raised me was exactly why I had avoided relationships for twenty six years now.
My father, Fernando Antonelli, was nothing short of a monster. Ever since I gained consciousness I had seen him hit my mother and sister Lisa. He had a sick twisted hatred for women, one that didn't exclude his family. I wasn't free from the abuse either, but while it wasn't physical, it was psychological.
When I was ten, my mother had endured enough and had abandoned my sister and I. The next twelve years of my life would be nothing short of a nightmare. I hated my father, but somehow I came to hate my mother even more. She knew what sort of monster she had married, yet for some reason she had thought it would be a good idea to abandon her two helpless children with said monster.
Perhaps my trauma was exactly why I felt so guilty for exploiting hers. After witnessing what Thomas did to her with eyes that weren't that of a ten year old, it began to make sense to me why my mother had abandoned us. She was probably too scared, too scarred to think of anything else besides her own survival. She was human after all, and not the goddess that I had made her out to be when I was younger.
"You can drop me here, I'll find my way back from here." Anne's voice cut through my thoughts. She reached for the door, but I intervened and locked it from the controls.
"I've put you through enough already, the least I can do now is at least make sure you get home safely." I argued. She didn't retaliate, she just sat back down and stared at me as though she was judging my every move.
I didn't mind her, she had every right to glare at me any way she wanted, it was what I deserved for reopening wounds she had fought hard to heal. After another five minutes, we finally arrived at her place, a small house near the end of a very lonely street. It was a good thing I had insisted on driving her home, a shaken woman should never be allowed to walk these emoty streets alone.
I got down, opened the door and offered my hand like a gentleman. But she ignored it and stepped out on her own, then without another word she headed for the door. I followed her, determined to make sure she was safe before I left. Or maybe not. Leaving her in this condition was not a good idea. What if she tried something stupid? Like harming herself.
When Anne realized I was still following her, she turned to me and raised an inquisitive brow. "Thank you for the ride, but I can take care of myself now."
"I know, but I want to make sure you don't try to do something harmful to yourself. I shouldn't have exploited you the way I did, so I'm going to make sure there isn't an after effect to what I've done."
"I'm not suicidal, Mr Antonelli—"
"I told you to call me Riccardo, Ms Allistairz." I interjected sharply. "And I insist, as your boss, and as a man who is sorry for his actions."
Anne's lips parted, ready to throw another protest my way, but no words came out. For a moment, she just stared at me. I knew she wanted me to leave, she wanted to scream those words at my face. But deep down she needed the company.
"Just… don't make yourself too comfortable," she murmured as she reached for her keys.
I gave a faint, almost ghostly smile, glad that I was at least able to get through to her. "Wouldn't dream of it."