Chapter 229 MOM.

Chapter 229 MOM.
\~~~SERENA.

Three days later, I stood in the kitchen, carefully arranging a platter of sliced fruit while listening to the sound of overlapping voices coming from the living room. Ethan and Maya were meeting each other for the first time tonight, and they were already bantering back and forth, mostly Ethan teasing Maya about some database security protocols, and Maya playfully defending her firewall while Ethan looked mildly impressed. 

And then there was Melissa, sitting at the kitchen island, happily stealing pepperoni off the pizza boxes we had piled high on the counter. 

“If you eat one more piece before the guys get out here, I’m locking you out of the server room permanently,” I warned, leaning against the counter with a glass of sparkling cider in hand. 

Melissa grinned unapologetically, chewing her slice of pizza. “Come on, ma’am. Stress-eating is a mandatory requirement when you work for Damien. Do you know how many times I thought my computer was going to blow up last week?”

“You handled it like a genius, and you know it. Again, if you call me ma’am one more time today, I’ll just assume you want your head to be chopped off.” I smiled, rolling my eyes. 

The front door opened, and heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway. A second later, Damien walked into the kitchen, shedding his suit jacket over the back of a chair and unbuttoning his cuffs. He looked tired from a long day wrapping up the final corporate asset freezes against James’s shell companies, but the moment his dark eyes landed on me, his expression softened instantly. 

He walked up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the side of my neck. 

“You’ve been standing on your feet too long,” he murmured against my skin. 

“I’m hosting, Damien. That requires standing,” I laughed, leaning back against his chest. “Did everything go smoothly at the federal prosecutor's office?”

“The paperwork is locked in. James’s network is officially dead, and his assets are completely dismantled,” Damien answered, his voice smooth and steady. “He won’t ever see another cent, and neither will any of his cronies.”

“Good,” I breathed out, closing my eyes for a second as the last lingering fear finally let go of my chest. 

Melissa cleared her throat loudly, tapping her fork against her plate. “Hello? Some of us are still standing right here, trying to digest our trauma and your expensive pizza.”

Damien didn't let go of me. He just glanced over my shoulder at her with a deadpan stare. “Then go eat in the living room with Ethan and Maya.”

“You’re terrible, boss,” Melissa muttered, grabbing another slice of pizza and wandering back toward the others. 

I chuckled, turning around in Damien’s arms to face him. I reached up, smoothing down the lapel of his shirt. “So… did you talk to her?”

Damien’s hands tightened slightly around my waist. The easy, playful mood in the kitchen shifted just a fraction. 

“I did,” he said quietly. 

My heart gave a small, complicated thump. “And?”

“She’s coming, Serena,” Damien said, his eyes searching mine carefully to make sure I wouldn't shatter. “She called me this afternoon. She’s outside. She wanted to know if she was even allowed to step through the front door.”

I went completely still. 

All the warmth in the kitchen suddenly felt a little heavier. For days, we had talked about the possibility of my mother showing up, of giving her a second chance. 

The way she had pushed me away and demanded I choose between Damien and her still stung raw in my chest. 

“She’s here right now?” I whispered, my voice tight. 

“She is,” Damien confirmed gently, his thumb rubbing soothing circles against my lower back. “If you tell me to turn her away right now, I will walk out that door, tell her to leave, and she will never bother you again. You call the shots, moonlight.”

I looked down at the floor, biting my lower lip. 

I thought about the recent weeks of betrayal, the accusations and the way she’d looked at me as though I had become the enemy.

Then, just as quickly, another memory surfaced.

My mother teaching me how to braid my hair, sitting beside my bed whenever I had a fever and staying awake all night before my university entrance exams because she was more nervous than I was.

Which one was real?

Maybe…

They both were.

She was a victim of his psychological games just like everyone else. 

“Does she know about…” I started, gesturing vaguely toward my stomach. 

“She doesn't know yet, no one does yet,” Damien answered softly. “I wanted to let you decide how and when to tell them.”

I took a deep, shaky breath, letting the cool air fill my lungs. I looked back up into Damien’s dark, unwavering eyes, finding all the strength I needed right there in his gaze. 

“No,” I said, shaking my head slowly. “Don't turn her away.”

Damien held my gaze for a beat, making sure I was certain. Then, a slow, proud smile touched the corners of his mouth. 

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” I whispered, stepping out of his embrace and smoothing down my top. “If she wants to make things right, she’s going to have to walk through that front door and face us. Let her in, Damien.”

Damien nodded once, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze before turning toward the hallway. 

I stood by the kitchen island, my fingers gripping the edge of the marble counter as I listened to his heavy footsteps walk toward the front door. The living room chatter quieted down as Ethan, Maya, and Melissa realized someone else was arriving. 

A few minutes later, I heard footsteps approaching down the hall.

I took one final breath, turned from the kitchen island and my mother stood quietly at the entrance.

For a second, I barely recognized her.

The elegant woman who never stepped outside without perfect composure looked years older. Her shoulders sagged beneath a plain cardigan, her eyes were swollen from too many obvious sleepless nights, and the deep shadows beneath them made her look as though she’d aged a decade in a week.

She looked… Defeated.

Oh, mom.