"Ronald, I want your signature here."
My head had been pounding relentlessly for the past two days. Seeing her with Brooks had shattered something inside me, leaving my body weak and drained. The stress, the sleepless nights, and the sheer weight of my emotions had taken their toll. Fucking hell—I passed out, only to wake up two hours later with Krystal and Theo hovering over me, concerned about my lack of food intake.
And now? Now, I just wait for my wedding, a wedding that feels like a noose tightening around my neck. Every passing day, I'm dying inside, and my mother couldn't care less.
"My head hurts, Mom. Please, give it another go." I grip my head in both hands, as if the pressure might stop the relentless storm inside my skull. But it doesn't. It's like my thoughts are sprinting through my mind, colliding and shattering, and I can't stop them.
But she doesn't care. She forces the pen into my hand, making me sign without a second thought. Her words about work keep echoing in my head, hollow and meaningless. She didn't even ask what was wrong. Not once.
"Sir, you signed for the first time without reading."
Yes. Because she is my mother. And I trust her—at any cost.
"Huh?" I loosen my tie and lean my head against the table. What's the point in reading anything when my entire life feels like an open book written by someone else? My mother moves around excitedly, as if she's the one getting married. As if my suffering doesn't even register.
"Are you okay, sir?"
No. I want to see Rose. But how? How can I? I want to hear her voice. I crave the warmth of her touch.
"Give me a pill."
"Sir, this is your third today. It's dangerous."
I close my eyes and remain silent. The open files surrounding me blur into the background. All I know is this—I am losing myself over a woman.
Three days later, I am still at the office, distant from everyone. My body lacks the strength to think, to function, to do anything other than drown in this mess.
"Mr. Ronald, I conducted an investigation that night."
"Why?" My voice is sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. Who gave him the right?
"Because you are hurt. I'm sorry, but I discovered that Miss Rose fainted in the car."
My eyes widen. That explains why she was in his arms.
"What? What happened to her?"
He spreads out several photos in front of me. One shows her at Brooks' home, sharing a meal. Another at the hospital. And then—
Wait.
Who is that woman with her?
Am I missing something?
Someone has emerged from her past. A woman who doesn't belong there. I lean in, my breath catching as I take a closer look.
She's holding Rose tightly in her arms.
"What is she doing here?" My voice is hoarse, my hands clenching into fists. "You told me she had no family left. But how?"
"That's her mother."
Her mother? The woman who abandoned her? The woman who had no right to stand beside her?
"Sir, Neil was present. He overheard some of their conversation. They spoke inside for a while, and when she left, Miss Rose broke down completely. An hour later, someone withdrew a million dollars from the bank."
I exhale sharply. "A check?"
"Your mother gave it to her."
I clench my jaw. "She came back just for money."
"Yes, sir. Neil mentioned that she took it by force."
Force. That word echoes in my mind. After all these years, she returned—not for love, not for reconciliation, but for money.
"How do you know?"
"She searched Rose's room, but Miss Rose stopped her. They argued. She slapped her."
I don't realize I've crushed the photo in my grip until my knuckles turn white.
How dare she?
Why does everyone hurt her?
Why did I?
"I want my money back. Find out why she needed it. And stop acting like a damn stalker."
"Yes, sir."
Days pass with no news of her. She works, but the light in her is gone. She doesn't smile. And me? I'm barely existing. The days stretch into nights, unbearable and cold. In one week, I will leave her forever.
"Sir, here's the report on Miss Rose's mother's second husband. Their business collapsed. They were swindled and now need five million dollars. That's why she came back."
So her mother left her father for another man. And now?
"Who told her Rose was here?"
"She found out herself."
Nothing makes sense.
"Find out the date of Rose's parents' divorce. You can go now. I'll stay here tonight."
There's a missing piece. And I need to find it.
My phone buzzes.
"Yes?"
"Sir, our shipment was rejected. They claim we're dealing in illegal goods."
What the fuck?
"What? How? Why?"
"They said our product contains unauthorized substances. But we've already started production."
"This is our new project. We need to ship before the store opens. Do not let this fail. Get me the report immediately."
As I wait for the report, my phone rings again.
"Mr. Ronald, the Paris investors have pulled out. They found reports stating that we use chemicals in our beauty products."
"We don't use chemicals."
"But the reports say otherwise."
My jaw tightens.
First the shipment. Now this.
"Fine. Wait for my call."
I dial my mother. As the project manager, she should have answers. But when she answers, her voice is slurred.
She's drunk.
Again.
A man's voice murmurs in the background. My stomach churns.
Seriously, Mom?
Theo walks in, holding documents. How does he know? I never told him.
"Sir, all our containers are under investigation. They won't clear them without a thorough check. If this continues, we'll suffer massive losses."
My phone rings again.
I don't want to answer it.
Theo picks it up, his face darkening.
"Sir, the news is everywhere. The stores that planned to stock our products are pulling out. They refuse to carry anything deemed dangerous."
I slam my fist against the table, sending files flying.
We're losing everything.
My company—the one thing I built with my own blood, sweat, and tears—is crumbling before my eyes.
"Theo, if we can't—"
"Sir, Mrs. Laura's products contained chemicals. It's more than we expected."
Mom, are you serious? We are currently suffering as a result of her actions. If we don't take action, our organization will collapse. The reputation we built over years is now hanging by a thread.
We spent the entire night working, trying to salvage the situation, but nothing changed. Our market value is now determined by our new projects, but if we can't resolve this crisis, our downfall is inevitable. Dawn is approaching, but my main concern remains the market. Our common values, our credibility—everything is slipping away.
"Ronald, what happened?"
She finally revealed her face, her eyes bloodshot and unfocused. The stench of alcohol clung to her like a second skin. Disgusted, I tossed a file in front of her.
"Because of you, Mom, we are now facing numerous challenges. You used chemicals without authorization, without even documenting it properly. Now they are investigating. What if this turns into something bigger?"
"I can call—"
"I did everything, Mother. I did!"
Standing face-to-face, my anger erupted. My voice echoed off the walls, and for the first time in a long while, I saw genuine shock in her eyes.
"The news is everywhere."
The market opened, and we were already down. The entire day, I was buried under an avalanche of calls and documents. At times, I felt like my mind had given up on suffering. Then, when the market closed, the value of our shares had plummeted. I had nothing left in my hands. Investors were demanding explanations, but what could I say?
"Sir, Mr. Brooks is on the line."
Seriously? Has he come to mock me now? Wait—now I understand. Is he behind this? That warning he gave before, it all makes sense now.
"Wow, I never expected it to be this much fun. You fight hard, but you're weak, Ronald. I wish I could see your face right now. You probably look like a loser. Don't worry, though. I'm here to help you—but only in the worst-case scenario. This is just a trailer, Ronald. It pales in comparison to her pain. Next time…"
Motherfucker. Brooks.
Then someone spoke behind him, interrupting his taunt.
"Mr. Brooks, Miss Rose wants to talk to you."
Rose? Another ache stabbed through my chest. Why is she calling him? My ears burned at the mention of her name.
"Wait, Ronald! Your wife is calling me."
My hand gripped the pen tightly, tapping it repeatedly against the table. My rage simmered just beneath the surface. Why not end him tonight?
"Hello, gorgeous!"
The pen suddenly felt like a knife in my hand, an urge to drive it through something—or someone.
"Yes."
"He deserves it."
Are they talking about me?
"You take care of yourself and your…" Brooks cleared his throat.
"Okay, I'll quit. Take care."
"Fucker," Brooks sneered. "She saw your news and now wants me to assist you. But now she knows what I did and wants me to quit. I still care about her, Ronald. I still love her. It's tragic, really—you abandoned her for me. But don't worry, I'll treat her with love. Just stay away from her, or I will absolutely destroy you."
The line went dead, but I could still feel her concern in those few words. She still cared—even after everything.
The following day, the scandal spread like wildfire. Brooks called again, another thinly veiled warning, but I ignored him. My focus was now on the company. I made a decision: I would take charge of all projects moving forward. When I announced my decision, Mom was furious. For the first time in my life, I heard harsh words directed at me from her. But why? She blamed Rose again. But I was the one who had wronged Rose, not the other way around.
That night, as I sat alone in my office, the cityscape stretched out before me. The drizzling rain created mesmerizing patterns on the glass, and the snow had mostly melted, leaving behind the biting cold. My nights were now spent in solitude, frozen in regret. But suddenly…
Wait.
Something felt different.
A scent.
Footsteps.
I could hear it—either her heartbeat or mine.
Slowly, I turned my chair.
And there she was.
"Jenna."
But it wasn't just her presence. It was something else. A shift in the air, a tremor in my gut.
I wasn't alone anymore.