A Night With The Ruthless Billionaire

rail body rumpled like a fallen le

o my knees, my hands trembl

words spilled out in a rush

y balance," she whispers, her voice as weak as

hands as I guide her back to bed, tucking the blanket around her trembl

a feeble smile. "Didn'

e gentle pressure soothing her tired muscles. And I pull the blanket

haustion evident in the way

o soft, it almost breaks me. Her hand weakly

eight of everything. This isn't just exhaustion; it's the

round a mug of tea, hoping the warmth will seep into my bones and chase away the chill tha

make me flinch. I hadn't seen her get up in months. When I looked up,

le, but it felt brittle, re

ghost of the woman she used to be. "I couldn't sleep," s

ing before she even opens her mouth. "You h

my fingers tightening around it like a l

esn't usually make you this quiet," she said gently, sque

, too heavy to speak, too painful to swallow. But the weight of

nside me cracking wide open. "Somet

never leaving my face. "What ha

"I was at the hotel, cleaning, and ... and this

r mouth, a gasp escaping her lips. "Oh, Emma..."

shaking with sobs I can't control. Her arms tighten around me, a pr

s choked with disbelief an

ppet on strings. I can't speak, the

f than to me. Then, her voice grows stronger, laced w

air, unanswered. I don't h

e steadier now. "We need to go to the police. T

head violently. "No, Mom. We can't. Nobody will believe

g her eyes. "Why not? This is a cri

e couldn't possibly understand

dened, her hand covering her mouth as if to stop th

ith dread. "You mean... that powerful an

s, Mom. That's why we can't do anything. H

a shock. A flicker of recognition crosses her face, and I can't shake the f

I didn't want you to find out like this

like she did when I was a child. "It's not your fault,

om the shock. There's fear - real, deep-seated fea

y mother wipes away my tears and takes a deep br

ce steady despite the emotions swirling inside her

an't keep this bottled up any longer. I need justice for what happened. I nod s

?" I asked, my voice small. "What i

. "They'll believe you," she says firmly. "We'll try o

mly lit kitchen, an unsettlin

dn't just react like any other mother would. Her fear...

darker. And suddenly, I feel certain that whatever it is, it'

lls you don't know, Emma. Something

els heavier. "What do you mean, Mom? I whisper,