Mom's hard eyes were fixated on me as she took another long sip of vodka. I don't think she heard one word Dad said.

"Put the glass down, Joy. I think you've had enough for one day." Dad sneered. He was still on his first tumbler of whiskey and much more coherent than her. "We talked about this."

Xavier was in his own world, texting feverishly on his cell.

"Actually, she's identical to her slutty mother."

"That's enough," Dad hissed. He was livid and had his eyes exclusively on Mom. "Joy, you are going to regret this if you don't stop right now. This is your last chance." He pounded his fist onto the table. The plates, glasses, and silverware all wobbled from the sheer force of his hand.

He didn't faze her. She gave him a scathing glare that would make anyone tremble in fear. "I think it's time we put the truth on the table. Wouldn't you agree, Frank?" she said his name like it was coated in venom.

Xavier finally looked up. One of his eyes was swollen, but not discolored or bruised. He placed his phone facedown on the table as his brown eyes jumped back and forth between me and Mom. "What's going on?" he asked.

"If she's such an adult like you claim your princess is," Mom said, looking at Dad from the other side of the table, "I think it's time she knows the truth."

"What truth?" Xavier asked. He sounded just like Dad. "What are you talking about?"

"Nothing that concerns you, son. You have enough going on as it is, what with that little predicament you were in a few weeks ago," she said.

"Mom," Xavier growled in a warning tone. "Stop."

"Joy," Dad spoke at the same time as Xavier.

"What?" Mom said as if it wasn't a big deal.

Dad was up and out of his chair in seconds, hands balled into fists as he marched toward her. She was up and walking away from him, surprisingly fast for someone who was sloshed.

"Can someone please tell me what the fuck is going on," Xavier exclaimed. His eyes were so wide all I could see were his pupils. I was just in the dark as he was.

Mom continued. "It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out."

Dad’s eyes narrowed to dark little slits. "Joy," he warned. "That is enough!"

"Did it ever occur to you where your red hair and freckles come from?" she asked me, ignoring my dad. She took a long pull of her clear liquid.

"What?" I said, my voice shaky. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Dad shoved one of the heavy dinner table chairs to the side. It fell hard with a clank. "Stop it, right now!" He glanced at Xavier and said, "Grab your mother." The table was so long that he couldn't catch her. He’d take one step, and she’d take one in the other direction.

"Where, Adrianna!" Mom yelled.

I started to shake and a crease formed between my eyes. I had wondered where it came from, but figured it came from another family member. It happened all the time.

"I assumed it came from Dad’s side of the family, just like Xavier's hair and eyes came from yours."

She snickered. "Your father is a womanizing whore, just like your mother was. A slut. Just. Like. You."

Chills zipped down my spine.

I was frozen to the core.

My jaw bobbed up and down. I tried to say ten different sentences at once but all I could muster was huge eyes and a tied tongue.

"My…my mother? But…" I stammered, my head was spinning, and I reached behind me to grab the arm of the chair and sat down. Bile rose in my throat. I looked to my dad, begging for help, then back at my mom as her words echoed in my head in that sickening, slimy tone she used. I searched her eyes for the truth.

Xavier's eyes hardened, and they scared me more than Dad’s. "Did you just call my sister a slut?" he asked, leaning forward with his head tilted to the side, demanding to know if he'd heard right.

"You will not speak of my daughter in that manner!" Dad’s boisterous voice boomed across the room. His white-knuckled fist slammed onto the table.

Mom snickered again and took a long sip, swallowing half the contents in one gulp, then held the glass near her face. She traced her bottom lip with the pad of her ring finger, her eyes trained solely on me.

"I know you're not talking about Adrianna like that," Xavier said.

"I'm warning you, Joy, do not do this because you're angry with me. Go take a nap or something."

Xavier grabbed Mom’s boney upper arms. She tried to yank herself away, but her vodka went flying and splashed onto the floor.

"Mom, you're drunk. Just stop," my brother pleaded as Dad reached them. Mom wasn't going anywhere. A scuffle started between the three. Words were thrown around and it was a clear effort to reel her in and stop her before it was too late.

I dazed off and stared at the marble floor. A slide show of moments flashed through my head, all scenes of my life when I questioned her actions, her comments, her coldness toward me. How I was nothing like her, how I could never be what she wanted, no matter how much I tried. I never did right. I was never enough. How my dad always had my back, how he gave me whatever I wanted and often disagreed with her.

I was beginning to pant at the realization. I couldn't breathe.

No…it couldn't be true.

She didn't mean it. She was just upset.

I looked up and scanned her bleach blonde hair. She had naturally dark roots, so I never questioned the hair, or the color of her eyes, or how our opinions were never on the same page. I never thought to. Many families were like mine with visible differences. Many mothers and daughters didn't get along.

"I'm done trying to keep this family together," she spat at Dad. "Done trying to make us look good when all you want is to ruin this name! I'm done covering up your lies and years of infidelity and making me out to be a fool. It's over! Over! The truth is coming out. You're nothing but a fake bastard!" she screamed like a woman scorned. Never in my life had I seen her behave like this before. But the more I heard Dad yell, and the more I heard my brother beg her to stop, the more it became painfully real. Through blurry eyes, I watched them struggle.

"Ah, I see you put two and two together." She looked directly at me. "You're a little whore, just like your real mother was, trying to seduce men who aren't yours, take what's not yours. It's bad enough this family is a lie, a mockery, but I refuse to be shamed and disgraced in front of the world any longer. I went to the ends of the earth to cover up your father’s accident sixteen years ago because I loved him, but I refuse to do it for you."

His accident…meaning me. My accident…meaning my affair with my coach.

She did it because she loved him, but she wouldn't lie any longer.

She wouldn’t go to ends of the earth for me because she didn't love me.

She had never loved me.

And the worst part of all, after all these years, deep down I had never felt like I had a mother's love either.

"Mom…" Xavier said softly, heartbroken. He let go of her arms and stood as shocked as I was.

My heart dropped into my gut. Air seized my lungs. I wasn’t sure how much more I could handle. Her cruelness knew no bounds. The woman I knew only as my mother was a monster clothed in Chanel and draped in diamonds.

I was going to be sick. I gripped the arm of the chair and held my stomach with my other hand. Nausea spun like a tornado through me, the vomit climbing up my throat. Any second I was going to lose it.

"How dare you hurt her like that," Dad said, danger coating his every word. "She's our daughter."

"She's not my daughter and she never will be. I never wanted her. I can't stand her! She was your assistant's daughter! Your assistant who was a fucking loser, worthless, and no good. All she had to do was spread her little virgin legs and you went running." She sneered and continued. "A loser who you paid off to keep her mouth shut and disappear. But I'm the loser, too, because you paid me to play house and pretend that Adrianna was mine, didn't you?"

I couldn't take anymore, I needed to get away.

"Mom…" Xavier's voice cracked, but his eyes were a fury of rage. My gaze dropped to his hands. They were balled into fists, the whites of his cracked knuckles showing. "This isn't Adrianna's fault. Why are you doing this to her?"

"Adrianna," she chewed out, disgust laced in the four syllables of my name. "Adrianna is a prostitute's name. I wanted to change it, but your dear old father wouldn't let me change his precious daughter’s name. His whore of an assistant picked it out."

It happened so fast. I didn't see it, but I heard it. The loud, cracking sound that couldn't be mistaken for anything other than a backhanded blow. There was not one ounce of guilt or remorse that came with it.

I wasn't sure what stunned me more—Dad hitting mom right across the face, or when Xavier grabbed him by the collar of his Robert Cavalli shirt and shoved him hard and fast up against the wall.

"Dad," Xavier said low and quiet. Anger poured off him in waves. "You should never hit a woman. Ever." I shot a glance at Mom. She cupped her cheek, her jaw aghast, tears floating in her eyes. "You taught me from a young age to always protect my sister," he said. My heart soared for my brother. I was thankful I had him in my corner. "I don't give a shit if what Mom claims is true. Adrianna is my sister, and she always will be my sister. She's good and doesn't deserve to be called vile names and attacked, but hitting Mom because of that? What does that make you? I will not stand to see a woman hit, especially my mother."

Dad’s eyes narrowed at my brother. "Xavier, stay out of it," he ordered, grabbing my brother's wrists. "You don't know the half of it." Xavier pulled Dad and shoved him against the wall again. The fury radiating off him scared me. He could unravel at any given moment and I didn't have the power in me to stop either of them.

"Mom, you knew Adrianna would never fight back and disrespect you, that's not who she is, and you know that. You went for her jugular knowing she had no defense," Xavier gritted out.

"You want to talk about respect?" Mom said hoarsely. Standing tall, she dropped her hand. A lick of fire still blazed in her eyes, and a deep red mark marred her cheek.

She fixed her stare on Xavier.

"You want to talk about respect," Mom said again, her brows raised high. She pulled her shoulders back. She wasn't finished with us.

"Why don't you tell your sister," she spat, "how you respected her friend so much that you got her pregnant. Why don't you tell Adrianna about you and Avery? About how I had to cover up your mess for this family and the Herons." She sneered, shaking her head. She pointed to her chest, sloppily stabbing herself with her index finger. "About the abortion I paid for?" she spat with a bite. She still had fight in her. "And you want to talk about respect?" Mom scoffed. "What a joke." She pointed at all of us. "You all are a joke with not an ounce of respect in any of you. You should be bowing down and kissing the ground I walk on for all I've done for you."

She strode from the formal dining room without so much as a falter in her step, leaving us all speechless.