BILLIONAIRES: Father or Son

Chapter Twelve

JAYDEN'S POV

Melissa had called earlier, claiming my mother was in some kind of danger. Normally, I would brush off her dramatic tendencies, but something about the urgency in her voice unsettled me. I left the Businessmen's Summit early, barely staying until the end. My mother could be over-the-top, but this sounded different—serious even. When I got home, no one could really explain what had happened to her. The servants only said she came back drenched and looking like she was about to pass out.

The moment I walked into the living room, Melissa sprang to her feet and rushed over, wrapping her arms around me like I had been gone for months.

"You're home, sweetheart! How did it go?" she asked, her voice dripping with sweetness.

I gently peeled her off me, as though she were something fragile and poisonous at the same time. I wasn't in the mood for her right now. I was still too raw from everything with Flora. Melissa looked the part, no doubt—wealthy background, drop-dead gorgeous. But there was something about Flora, something I had never quite appreciated until now.

"It was fine," I said flatly, brushing past her. "Where's my mother?"

Melissa's face tightened with offense. "She's in her room."

I nodded, already turning to leave, but she grabbed my wrist. I stopped, looking at her with raised eyebrows.

"Are you really just going to walk away without giving attention to me and our baby?" she said, her voice laced with a hint of manipulation.

"Melissa, please," I replied, trying to keep my patience in check. "You made it sound urgent on the phone. You said she hasn't been out in three days."

She rolled her eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. She opened her mouth as if to argue but seemed to think better of it. Something about her reaction didn't sit right with me, like she was hiding something. But I didn't have time for her games. As I made my way up the stairs, my thoughts drifted back to the summit. Bennett was there, looking as smug as ever. The old bastard didn't seem fazed by his string of divorces—three women had publicly called him out for being a lying, cheating son of a gun, but none of it seemed to stick. He always had investors hanging on his every word and always won in court.

What kind of spell did he have on people?

The worst part was, he looked a lot like me, something the press had noticed more than once. The rumors about him being my father had swirled around for years, but neither of us ever commented on it, and eventually, the gossip died down. Still, I hated him. Not just for what he did to my mother, but for trying to take everything from us. His downfall was a personal mission now.

I shook off those thoughts as I reached my mother's door, knocking twice before entering when I got no answer.

She was sitting on the edge of her bed in a bathrobe, looking like she had just lost a war. She seemed... smaller, somehow. Sad, tired, defeated—but alive. That was a relief at least.

"Mom, are you okay?" I asked, pulling a chair over and sitting down in front of her.

The servants were busy in the adjoining bathroom, preparing a bath, and I could smell the familiar scent of disinfectant wafting through the air. I turned back to my mother, trying to make sense of it all.

"What's going on, Mom? What happened to you?" I asked, my confusion deepening. "Where did you go that day?"

She didn't answer right away, just sat there staring off into space. And it wasn't just her silence that unnerved me—it was the fact that she looked completely stripped down. No makeup, no lashes, no perfectly manicured nails. I couldn't remember the last time I saw her this bare, this... vulnerable.