Mom

Despite the pang of apprehension that tinged my thoughts, I remained composed, determined not to let her disrupt the fragile equilibrium I had worked so hard to achieve. Years of dealing with her unpredictable behavior had taught me to expect the unexpected, and I was ready to face whatever challenges she threw my way.

Leaving Jasper behind, his concern palpable in the air, I made my way to the private dining room where my mother awaited. What could she possibly want after all this time?

Entering the room, I found her sitting at the table, her expression unreadable. Despite the years that had passed since our last encounter, her presence still held a weight of unresolved emotions and unspoken grievances, her presence commanding attention despite her seemingly unassuming appearance. Her brown hair was pulled back into a tight bun, lending her a stern and no-nonsense air.

Her eyes, though soft in color, held a sharpness that cut through the air like a knife. They bore into me with an intensity that spoke volumes of how she loathed my exsistance.

Underneath her facade of maternal concern and affection lay a two-faced demon, adept at manipulation and deceit. I had learned from bitter experience to tread carefully in her presence, for her outward charm masked a calculating and cunning mind.

"Mother," I greeted her, keeping my tone neutral as I took a seat opposite her. "To what do I owe this unexpected visit?"

She regarded me with a mixture of scrutiny and something akin to anger. "I came to see you, Alexander," she began.

As much as I wanted to believe her, I couldn't shake the feeling that her sudden appearance was too convenient, too contrived.

"Mom, I'm really glad you decided to see me here. It's been a while," I said, trying to keep the conversation light.

"Yes, well, I suppose I can spare a few moments for the child I thought was dead until recently," she replied, her tone dripping with condescension. If she was that concerned , why wait until I successfully completed my trial run? "Though I must say, this place could use a bit of sprucing up."

I chuckled, unfazed by her critique. "Always the critic, huh? Well, I'm proud of what I've accomplished here."

"Oh, I'm sure you are, dear. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Running a restaurant is hardly a prestigious career, is it? Not quite what I had envisioned for you," she remarked, her disapproval evident.

I smirked, accustomed to her dismissive attitude. "You know, I've grown quite fond of this place. And besides, it's doing well. People seem to enjoy the food and atmosphere."

"I suppose it's better than doing nothing at all. But really, couldn't you have aimed a bit higher? A restaurant owner – it's so... common," she sighed, clearly unimpressed.

"Common, perhaps. But it's fulfilling. And I enjoy it. Isn't that what matters?" I replied casually, brushing off her criticism.

She sighed again, resigning herself to my unconventional choices. "You always were a bit... unconventional. But I suppose I'll have to learn to accept it. After all, it's your life."

I grinned, pleased that she was finally starting to come around. "That's the spirit. So, shall we order? I can recommend some of our best dishes."

"Very well, I suppose I'll give it a try. But let's not get carried away – I have high standards, you know," she said, ever the skeptic.

We proceeded to order, engaging in polite conversation throughout the meal. Despite her condescending remarks, I remained unfazed, knowing that I was proud of the path I had chosen, regardless of her opinions.

"So, I hear you've officially taken over as CEO," she remarked casually, a hint of skepticism in her voice.

I nodded, not surprised by her lack of enthusiasm. "Yes, it was necessary. Dad was ruining the company, and it should have been mine anyway. He's an incompetent idiot."

Her expression hardened at my words. "I see. Well, I never expected anything from you anyway. Let alone this."

I shrugged, unfazed by her dismissiveness. "That's your prerogative. You're free to think whatever you want about me. I don't actually give a fuck."

Then it suddenly hit me – my mother owned a company of her own, and by acquiring Todd Corporation, I had inadvertently become a direct competitor of hers. Was that why she was here? To subdue me, to remind me of my place?

Here I was, trying to stomach our strained relationship, and yet she was still trying to undermine me.

"So, about our businesses," she began, her tone carefully neutral. "I couldn't help but notice that we're both in similar industries now. I was thinking we could explore opportunities for collaboration."

I raised an eyebrow, not buying into her sudden change of heart. "Collaboration? Interesting proposition coming from you, considering our history."

She waved off my skepticism with a dismissive gesture. "Oh, let bygones be bygones. This is purely business, after all. Think of the synergies we could achieve by combining our resources and expertise."

I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest. "And what exactly did you have in mind?"

She launched into a lengthy explanation of her vision for collaboration, outlining potential areas of overlap and opportunities for mutual benefit. As she spoke, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to her proposal than met the eye.

"And what do you say?" she asked expectantly, her gaze fixed on me.

I wouldn't work with her even if there was a gun to my head.

"I appreciate the offer, Mom. But I have to decline," I replied firmly.

Her expression faltered, a hint of disappointment flashing across her face. "And why is that?"

I met her gaze head-on, not mincing words. "Because I refuse to compromise my integrity or the values that my company stands for. I've worked too hard to build this business, and I won't jeopardize it for the sake of a questionable partnership."

She bristled at my words, her facade slipping for a moment. "You're making a mistake, you know. You could benefit greatly from aligning yourself with me."

I shook my head, unwavering in my resolve. "Perhaps. But some things are more important than profit margins or market share. And I won't sacrifice my principles for the sake of success."

"The offer is good for you."

"I appreciate your offer, Mom, but I simply can't trust you. Your intentions have always been suspect, and I have no reason to believe that they've suddenly changed."

Her eyes widened in disbelief, a flicker of panic crossing her features. "But, darling, this could be a wonderful opportunity for both of us. Can't you see that?"

I shook my head, unfazed by her frantic pleas. "I haven't forgotten how you turned your back on me when I needed you the most. Remember when I was framed and sent to prison? You knew I was innocent, yet you still chose to distance yourself from me. I can't just overlook that."

She waved off my concerns dismissively. "That's all in the past now. You're out and alive, aren't you? What's done is done."

I felt a surge of frustration at her callous attitude. "You don't get it, do you? You neglected me as a child, you've been cold and indifferent. I can't trust someone who's never shown me an ounce of genuine care or concern."

Her expression softened slightly, but there was still a hint of defensiveness in her voice. "I did what I thought was best at the time. And look at you now – you've turned out just fine."

I scoffed, unable to contain my disbelief. "Just fine? You call this 'just fine'? You have no idea what it was like growing up under your roof. I was alone, Mom. I had no one to turn to, no one to confide in. And you were too busy chasing your own ambitions to notice."

She sighed, her frustration evident. "You were always the most dramatic of my children. Always making a mountain out of a molehill."

I scoffed at her dismissive tone, my anger simmering beneath the surface. "This isn't about being dramatic, Mom. This is about the truth. And the truth is, I can't trust you. Not now, not ever."

For a moment, there was silence between us as we stared each other down, neither willing to back down from our positions. But deep down, I knew that our relationship was irreparable – a casualty of a lifetime of neglect and indifference.

"I thought you were the most similar to me, but I guess I was wrong," she lamented. "It's just too bad you're just so emotional."

I clenched my jaw, her words cutting deeper than I cared to admit. "Excuse me for wanting a hug, you frigid bitch. Maybe I am emotional, but at least I'm honest about it. Unlike you."

Her eyes narrowed, a hint of defiance flashing in her gaze. "You'll regret shutting me out, you know. Todd Corporation is a family business, and you can't keep me out forever."

I shook my head, my resolve unwavering. "You're not my family, Mom. You haven't been for five years. And as long as I'm in charge, you'll never set foot in Todd Corporation. Grandpa made sure of that."

She scoffed, her voice dripping with disdain. "You stole that will, didn't you? Even if I didn't know it existed."

I met her accusation with a steely gaze. "It doesn't matter how I got it. What matters is that it's notarized and in effect. There's nothing you can do to change that."

Her expression softened slightly, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her features. "I just want what's best for you, darling. I don't understand why you're being so stubborn."

I sighed, my frustration mounting with each passing moment. "I'm not a child, Mom. I can make my own decisions."

She pressed on, her voice tinged with desperation. "At least let me meet this person you mentioned in your interview earlier. It's my right as your mother."

I shook my head, my patience wearing thin. "I don't trust you, Mom. And I certainly don't trust you to meet my partner."

Her eyes flashed with anger, her facade crumbling before my eyes. "You can't keep me away forever, you know. I'll find a way in, one way or another."

I stood my ground, refusing to be intimidated by her threats. "We'll see about that."

As my mother dropped the subject and moved on to suggesting a leveraged buyout of Lombardi's, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. It was clear she was trying to get her hands on my assets, and I wasn't about to let that happen.

"I appreciate your offer, Mom, but I'll have to decline," I said firmly, knowing full well the ulterior motives behind her proposal. "I'm not about to let you target my business and screw it over like you did with Dad's. I'm not as naive as he was to delegate such a task."

Her expression hardened at my refusal, a hint of frustration creeping into her voice. "You can't do what I can with this place, you know. You need my expertise."

I met her gaze head-on, my resolve unwavering. "Maybe not. But I can do bad on my own."

She sighed, her disappointment evident. "Fine. But at least hear me out. There are areas where I think you could improve."

I sighed at her suggestion, knowing full well her advice was nothing more than underhanded insults disguised as constructive criticism. "I think I'll pass. There's nothing wrong with this restaurant, Mom. And I won't let you have Mario."

"I can make the recipes better."

As my mother acknowledged that I had learned her recipes but hadn't executed them to her standards, I simply shrugged, unaffected by her criticism. "You're free to think whatever you want, Mom."

Her frown deepened, disappointment evident in her eyes. "You've changed," she remarked softly.

I met her gaze evenly, refusing to be swayed by her attempts to guilt-trip me. "I don't need anything from you, Mom. And I'm not open to hearing anything either."

She shook her head, frustration etched on her face. "You're ignorant. Don't blame me for treating you like a stranger."

I scoffed, feeling the tension between us thickening with each passing moment. "It won't change anything. Treat me as a rival, because that's what you are now."