“I know you told him you’d release photos,” Isla continues, voice steady now, deadly calm.“I know you told him you’d destroy him publicly if he showed up.”
Her mother’s jaw tightens.“He was dangerous.He would ruin your reputation.He would destroy everything we were working for.”
“He was my father.”
“He was unstable,” Alisa snaps.“He was reckless.He would have dragged you into chaos.No one wants a concert pianist with a drug habit or a father who entices you into rock-n-roll.”
“And that was your decision to make?”Isla demands to know, staring at the woman who had made all the decisions regarding her career.
“Yes,” Alisa says without hesitation.“Because someone had to.Your job was to be a great pianist.Mine was to make certain that nothing derailed your career.Not your father.Not your education.Not any boy who tried to come around.You had the talent, and I was going to make you a star.”
Isla laughs, a sound stripped of humor.“You didn’t just keep him away from me.You made sure he stayed away.You’re telling me you kept everyone away.”
“I did what was necessary,” Alisa says.“And it worked.”
She’d always known her mother was ambitious, but this felt like a betrayal disguised as determination.
“Worked?”she repeats.“You mean I became exactly what you wanted?”
Alisa lifts her chin.“You became successful.”
“I became obedient,” Isla says.“There’s a difference.”
Her mother’s expression hardens.“Everything you have is because I managed you.Because I made certain you became a great pianist.”
“And everything I lost is because you controlled me,” Isla replied.
They stand there, the truth finally unmasked between them.
“You took away my choice,” Isla says.“You took away my father.And you told yourself it was because of love?What about the love I had for my father?”
Alisa’s voice sharpens.“You would have been destroyed by him.”
“No,” Isla says quietly.“I was destroyed by not knowing him.”
Silence crashes down.
“You don’t get to rewrite this,” Alisa says finally.“You don’t get to undo years of careful planning because you read a document.I’ve made you who you are.”
“I get to stop,” Isla replies.“I get to choose now.”
Her mother scoffs.“You’re emotional.This will pass.”
“No,” Isla says.“This ends.”
She reaches into her bag and pulls out a legal document, setting it on the table between them.
“You’re no longer my manager.”
Alisa’s face goes pale.“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’ve already contacted my attorney,” Isla continues.“And a new representation agency.My contracts are being transferred.I have new staff.A new manager.Everyone you chose has been replaced.”
“You’re making a mistake,” Alisa says sharply.“You don’t understand this industry.”
“I understand control,” Isla says.“And I’m done living under it.”
Alisa’s composure finally cracks.“After everything I’ve sacrificed?—”
