Chapter 112 My Mother

Chapter 112 My Mother


\-Lucien-

My mother was seated across from me.

I could see her. I could smell the faint vanilla scent on her skin. I could hear the nervous movement of her fingers against the fabric of her dress. Yet my mind still refused to fully process the fact that she was here.

After all these years… I just couldn’t process it.

She had dark hair streaked with gray and when she smiled, faint lines gathered around the corners of her blue eyes. They were the same eyes I knew she had, yet I could not remember them.

I could not remember her face. We had been sitting in my home office for more than thirty minutes, and I had barely spoken since Carl brought her here. Also, I was certain that Celeste was pressed against the door on the other side, listening.

Carl had already explained how she returned to her old house to retrieve something, how she became suspicious when he approached her, and how he eventually convinced her to speak to me.

“You're all grown up,” she said softly as her smile trembled. “Very handsome. Very tall.”

I nodded, unsure of what else to do. I had spent years imagining this moment. I had imagined the questions I would ask her, the anger I would feel, the things I would say.

Now that she was sitting in front of me, I could barely find my voice.

“You must have a lot of questions.”

“I do.”

“But you don't know where to start.”

I looked at her. “My father already told me what happened.”

Her expression changed. “What did he tell you?”

I leaned back.

“He told me you witnessed Edward Ashford's murder. That you tried to report it, but the Ashfords threatened you and me. He said you came to him for help, and he told you to disappear because it was the only way to keep me alive.”

Her eyes remained on mine. “He told you that?”

“Yes.”

She looked down at her hands.“Then he told you only the part that made him look like your protector.”

I looked up at her. “What actually happened?”

“I went to him because I believed he would help me,” she said sadly. “I thought he was different. I thought he was the one person who would understand what I had seen. I trusted him enough to tell him everything.”

She swallowed. “I was wrong.”

“What did he do?”

“He told James.”

My chest tightened.

“He told James where I was and what I knew. After that, I started noticing people following me. They watched where we went. They watched who I spoke to. I couldn't move without wondering whether someone was behind me.”

Something shifted inside of me as realization hit. “He was the reason James hunted you.”

She let out a shaky breath and nodded. “Then, when he was certain, I’d been cornered. He came to me, and he gave me two choices.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “He told me I could give up my son and disappear, or I could stay and watch him die. I still remember that day like it was yesterday. How could a man be so cruel to use his own blood as a bargain?” She sobbed.

My breathing stopped for a moment, and silence filled the room. I looked away, trying to make sense of everything I had spent years believing.

My father had told me he protected my mother. He had told me he kept me alive. He had told me that every cruel decision he made was necessary.

He’d betrayed her, and lied to me for the second time. And I’d sat there that day, and listened to him like a fool.

“Every day, I regret giving you up.” She looked at me for a long moment. “But you were only six, Lucien. How was I supposed to protect us against him?”

Her voice softened.

“Then I thought of finding you from him, and taking you away. I had my plan set. I was going to show up at your school. I told myself I was going to be stubborn as hell, and that I was going to take you with me. Even if it meant breaking the law. Do you know I came? And when I did, I was caught. Not by the school, but by Reginald’s men. All that time, they’d been watching me. Do you know what your father said to me when I was found?”

She shook her head, fighting back tears. “He told me he made you die in an accident, so I’d never see you again. ”

I looked down at my hands. “So you stayed away.”

“I stayed alive.” Her voice broke. “And I prayed that one day, when you were old enough to understand, I would get the chance to tell you myself.”

She wiped away a tear. “I just never imagined it would take this long.” She looked at me. “But recently, someone came looking for me.”

My brows furrowed. “Who?”

“I don't know. A woman came to my house and told me someone had been asking questions about me. Before she left, she gave me a card.” She reached into her bag and pulled it out.

I recognized it immediately. My name was printed on it. My heart stopped.

“That belongs to me.”

She nodded. “I know. That's why I was so relieved when I saw it. I thought someone had finally found you. I thought after all these years, you had finally come looking for me.”

I took the card from her.

“The number on it was yours?” she asked.

“Yes.” I stared at her.

“When I called, a man answered. I thought it was you because he knew things about you. He told me where I could meet you.”

I pieced it all together. “But it wasn't me.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I only realized that later. The man who answered was one of your associates.”

Jackson.

The name immediately came to mind.

My stomach twisted into knots, and I could barely think.

“He was the one who answered your call?”

“Yes.” She looked down at her hands. “I was so excited that I didn't question it. I thought I was finally going to see my son.”

Then her expression shifted.

“What happened?”

“On the day we were supposed to meet, they came to my house.”

“Who?”

“I don't know all of them. But I knew they weren't there to talk.” Her voice trembled. “I escaped through the back before they could find me.”

I stared at her. And everything finally made sense why Jackson was working for James. He was the closest to me, and when he found out that I was looking for her, he used it against me.

My chest tightened with rage. This was the height of his betrayal.

“They’re still looking for me.” She looked toward the door before returning her gaze to me. “But I'm tired of running, Lucien.”

Something in her voice made me sit straighter.

“I don't want to hide anymore. I don't want to be separated from you. I don't want to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder.”

“What are you thinking?”

She met my eyes. “I want to stand trial.”

I stared at her. “For Edward's murder?”

She nodded.

“I was there. I saw what happened. I know what I know, and I'm willing to testify.”