ric’s POV:


    Something felt… off.


    I knew it from the moment I stepped into the building. The frantic side eyes that the employees and security officers exchanged with each other gave it away.


    There was only one person who had the power to make my employees feel uneasy with just her appearance, even without saying a word.


    And when Tyler greeted me at the elevator, the bastard was pale as fuck, eyes wide like he was terrified.


    My eyes turned hard as I looked at him. My jaw clenched, hands curling into fists as I tried to fight the urge to m him against the wall and squeeze his neck until he gave up the ghost.


    He made her cry.


    Above all other things, I was pissed that he still had the power to make Meadow feel that way. And no, I didn’t give a fuck that it’d been only two weeks since their breakup.


    I wanted to kill him. But right now, there was a more pressing issue in my office.


    “Sir,” he said. “There’s… a woman here to see you.”


    I didn’t stop walking. I already knew who it was.


    I guess I didn’t have to wait until the party after all.


    Tyler didn’t know who my mother was. If he did, he wouldn’t just call her ‘a woman.‘ My older employees knew what she could do. She barely ever came here, but when she did-


    She made sure to leave an impact.


    “I tried to stop her but she-”


    I paused, turning around to narrow my eyes at him. “You tried to stop her,” I echoed slowly.


    Tyler stepped back, like the look I was giving him was strong enough to push him back.


    Thing is, I was just surprised that he was still standing there after he tried to stop Ingrid Ashford from getting into her son’s office.


    “Cancel my schedule for next hour,” I said firmly just as the door to my office slid open. “And for goodness sake, Cross, go downstairs and ask about my mother before you make a mistake that’ll cost you your life.”


    I didn’t care about his life.


    I just wanted to be the one to end it.


    I stepped into the room to see my mother standing at the window, back facing me, wearing a long, navy-


    blue tailored coat.


    My mother loved her coats.


    Her grayish blond hair was pulled back into a sleek bun, hands behind her back as she exhaled sharply.


    “ric.” Her voice was ice cold. “Are you going to teach that assistant of yours some manners or should I do it for you?”


    I said nothing in response, but as I strode toward her, she finally turned around.


    And then, her eyes lit up, her lips pulling up in a wide, soft smile that she preserved only for her sons.


    “Mein Herz,” ‘My heart,‘ she cooed fondly, pulling me into a warm hug. “How I have missed you so.”


    “Mutti,” I murmured into her hair, wrapping my arms around her. “Been a while.”


    She pulled away, then leaned in again to kiss both my cheeks and pulled back again to study me.


    Something shed in her eyes–she knew I couldn’t feel her, but she never stopped trying.


    And I never failed to disappoint her.


    She covered it up with a cold stare. “You look tired,<i>” </i>she said, twisting her lips like the word itself


    disgusted her. “And pale. Are you eating properly?”


    I stood to my full height, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. “I didn’t realize you were in the city. Nn


    must’ve failed to mention that when he broke into my housest night.”


    “Ach bitte. He doesn’t know I’m here. I just had toe see you and see for myself the face of the man


    who broke my heart when he didn’t tell me he got married,<i>” </i>she said, a sarcastic bite in her tone as she


    pulled out my chair and sat in it.


    And then she tilted her head. “So I suppose we’re both filled with surprises, aren’t we?”


    I didn’t answer, I just nced toward the coffee maker, and then the bar cart.


    There was only one thing that would get me through this meeting without pulling my hair out of my


    scalp.


    So I went to the bar cart and poured myself a drink. It wasn’t even noon yet, but it didn’t matter.


    “A wife, ric,” my mother continued. “And I only found out because one of my friends sent me a fucking tabloid article.” Her ent thickened, voice still low.


    “And now, of course, they must think I look like a fool.”


    “You don’t look like anything,” I muttered under my breath, taking a sip of my bourbon. Trust my mother to make everything about herself.


    “What was that?” she asked sharply.


    “I said,” I turned to face her again. “You don’t look like anything, Mutti, because it’s not about you.”


    She blinked slowly, crossing one leg over the other. “Of course not. Because when is anything ever about


    me, hm?” Then she smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes this time. “I want to meet this wife of yours.”


    “Why? So you can try to scare her off?”


    I loved my mother. I did. However, I also knew that she would stop at nothing to get what she wanted.


    Who she wanted. I’d hoped getting married would shut her up, but obviously, it hadn’t.


    Ingrid rolled her eyes. “I just want to see the face of the woman you… settled for. Who is she? What family


    is she from?”


    “Drop it, Mutti,” I said coolly. “Nn told me about your little party. We’ll be there, and you’ll see her then.”


    “Schei?e,<i>” </i>‘Shit,‘ she hissed, rising to her feet. “Months ago, you told me you were fine with being alone for the rest of your life.”


    “Yeah? Well after I told you that, did you stop hounding me with questions about marriage?” I asked,


    running a hand through my hair. I knew where she was going with this, and frankly, I wasn’t ready to


    deal.


    “Well, no!” She eximed, heels clicking against the ground as she made her way to me. “Because you needed somebody.”


    I sighed. “And I have somebody now, M-”


    “Can she touch you?” She suddenly cut in, pinning me with a re.


    There it was. The almighty question.


    Now, of course, I could’ve answered honestly, because she would still find out from Nn anyway. But I didn’t.


    “That’s not the point.”


    “Nonsense,” she hissed sharply. <b>“</b><b>It </b>is. If you can’t feel her touch like you felt rissa’s touch, then she’s not the one for you.”


    Something in my chest hardened.


    “Don’t say her name,” I bit out coldly. Nn’s near–mention of her name this morning made me hit him. He knew he wasn’t supposed to say that name.


    And so did my mother.


    Who now had a dark smirk on her face as she stepped closer to me, crossing her arms in front of her


    chest. “What name?” She chuckled softly. “rissa?”