-Ace-
I found myself staring at the phone after the call ended, my jaw twitching in disbelief.
She turned it down?
Did she turn down the estate?
"Who in their right mind says no to a mansion in the hills?" I grumbled to myself, pacing back and forth in my penthouse living room.
I had everything set up perfectly. A private estate. Full-time care. A fridge stocked with her favorite snacks and a driver ready to go. The place was quiet and secluded—just what she needed for recovery. I hadn't planned on meeting her just yet, but I wanted to make sure she'd be safe and comfortable. No strings attached.
I wasn't some cold-hearted jerk.And yet—she said no.
Maybe she didn't fully grasp what I was offering. Or perhaps she was the type of woman who needed things laid out clearly. But I doubted that. There had been something in her that night in the ER—stormy and weary, yet sharp. She wasn't naive.
No. She simply didn't want anything from me. And that… intrigued me more than I wanted to admit.
"Let her go," I finally sighed, running a hand through my hair. "If she wants her old apartment, so be it."
But the truth hung in my mind like a stubborn cloud of smoke. I thought she'd jump at the chance. Most people would, especially those drowning in hospital bills that could rival the price of a sports car. I'd spent years around folks who'd trade anything for a taste of what I had—power, comfort, control.
She didn't even want a house. It bothered me more than it probably should have.
I poured myself a whiskey—neat—and made my way to the window, gazing down at the city I owned in fragments. Skyscrapers, clubs, high-rises, all with my name tucked away behind them. But none of that eased the sudden heaviness in my chest.
Why did I even care?
"Sir?" Kai, my assistant, poked his head into the room. "Your mother called again. The brunch is today."
Damn it.
The estate in Westfield was a place I'd steer clear of like it was the plague. With its marble floors, sparkling chandeliers, and a staff of fifteen who'd rather cater to ghosts than deal with my family's endless drama, it was all too much. Everything about it screamed old money, old rules, and old wounds.
I strolled in fashionably late, as per usual. No one bothered to greet me. They knew better.
Inside, my younger brother, Benjamin, was sprawled on one of the plush velvet couches, scrolling through his phone like a cat soaking up the sun. "Look who finally decided to show up," he drawled.
"Didn't know I had to RSVP."
"Mother said you did. She warned that if you skipped out again, she'd drag you by your balls."
"Let her try."
Benjamin smirked. "Wow, you're really in a mood today."
"I'm always in a mood."
My mother's voice floated in from the hallway. "Because you always think you're above the family, Ace."
Here we go.
She stepped into the room, draped in a navy silk dress that likely cost more than my car, her heels clicking ominously, and wearing an expression that could freeze blood. Vanessa Milan was a social icon—a woman who could build reputations and ruin careers over a cup of tea.
Mom never had a soft spot for me.
"You look tired, darling," she said, her tone as flat as a pancake.
"That's because I am."
"You've been unusually quiet. Rumors are flying. The press is speculating whether our golden boy is hiding a mistress or an illegitimate child."
"Let them speculate," I replied, taking a sip of my drink.
She approached me like a lioness stalking her prey. "You used to be sharper than this. Letting your guard down? Being seen by nurses in hospital wings? Are we playing the part of the billionaire gone soft?"
So someone had caught wind of her.
I clenched my jaw. "I wasn't seen with anyone. Don't even start."
"You're my son," she said coolly. "It's my responsibility to notice these things. And I must ensure you don't ruin what we've built."
"What I created," I corrected her. "I just kept it going."
"Watch it," Benjamin warned from the couch.
My mother's eyes narrowed. "What you've created is a legacy. Your child will inherit it one day. And yet, you keep making reckless choices. Paying off reporters. Making offers to random girls and then letting them return to their rundown homes."
That hit me hard.
"How do you—"
"I know everything, Ace." Her voice was sharp as a knife. "You might think you're hiding it from the world, but you forget who brought you into this world.
She stepped closer, her eyes reflecting everything. "Want to help some girl in need? Do it quietly. But don't make the mistake of getting too attached."
"Who said anything about attachment?"
But I was already on the back foot, and she could see it.
Benjamin let out a low whistle. "You're losing your grip, brother."
I shot him a look. "Focus on your mess-ups."
He shrugged. "I don't have any. Not yet."
"Boys," my mother snapped. "That's enough."
I downed the rest of my drink and set the glass down harder than I meant to.
"I didn't come here for a lecture," I said. "And I didn't come here to let you pull the strings in my life. Did you want brunch? Here I am. Enjoy it."
She didn't flinch. "You're angry."
"I'm fine."
"You're not fine. And how do I know?" She paused, tilting her head slightly. "Because you don't drink this early unless something's bothering you."
I remain silent. She smiled faintly, clearly pleased. "Let's hope she doesn't become a problem."
I was about to walk out the door, my heart racing. But just as I reached for the handle, my mother chimed in, "If she becomes one, I'll take care of it. Just like I always do."
That was the thing about my mother —she never issued threats. She made promises. At that moment, a cold shiver ran down my spine as I realized that Hazel's life might be more intertwined with mine than either of us had bargained for.