Michael stormed towards the elevator, a raging tempest coursing through him. He would decided to go after Dahlia himself, to show her that she could not get away from him. However, just as he approached the elevator, an unexpected intrusion disrupted his plans.
The receptionist walked in followed by an elegantly dressed elderly woman into Michael's opulent penthouse, her attire more revealing than professional.
The receptionist stammered out apologies, her voice shaking as she described her futile attempt to keep the elderly visitor out.
"I'm so sorry, Mr. Atlas. I tried to stop her, but she insisted on coming up."
Michael's gaze was fixed on the woman, and his voice pierced the air as he addressed her as "Mother." He felt his rage rising, a mix of annoyance at the intrusion and a sense of duty to deal with the situation. The unexpected guest's presence, combined with the weight of his mother's expectations, created an overwhelming atmosphere in the room.
The elderly woman, dressed elegantly and with authority, revealed the reason for her visit. She had traveled a long distance to see her son and evaluate his leadership of the family business.
"Michael, I've come a long way to see you and check on how you're handling our family's legacy."
Her mind carried the burden of a mother who had risen herself and her son from impoverished beginnings to become a wealthy tycoon with her work blood and sweat. The memories of their shared struggles and sacrifices weighed heavily on her heart.
With a mixture of pride and frustration, Michael responded to his mother's inquiries about his marriage plans. His voice carried a sense of both compliance and resistance as he answered her queries. When she delivered her stern instructions, demanding that he bring his future wife to the family house in three days, the room fell into an oppressive silence.
"Mother, I've made some arrangements, and you can trust me in this matter."
**Michael:**
Michael's fury reached a boiling point, but in the presence of the elderly woman, he held his temper. His words were curt and controlled.
Michael: "Mother, I assure you, I've made all the necessary arrangements."
His mother's eyes, sharp and penetrating, locked onto Michael. She spoke with a mixture of authority and concern.
"I hope you've chosen wisely, Michael. Our family's reputation is at stake."
The receptionist stood by, her gaze flickering between Michael and his mother. Unsure of what to do and in a bid to seem useful, she hesitated for a moment before addressing them.
"Is there anything else I can assist you with, Mr. Atlas?"
Michael's voice held a touch of frustration as he dismissed the receptionist.
Atlas
He had adorned that name upon entering into the world of the elite, only a selected few still refer to him by his real alias.
"That will be all, thank you."
His mother's tone softened as she looked at her son, a hint of motherly concern in her eyes.
"Michael, don't forget our family's legacy and everything we've worked for, sorry, everything I've worked for.
The receptionist quickly left the room, realizing that she had witnessed a family matter that she should not have been a part of.
As the elderly woman left, Michael seethed with anger, still resentful of the intrusion. He couldn't shake the weight of his mother's expectations and the remnants of their impoverished past.
Left alone, Michael's penthouse became a battlefield of emotions. His past and present clashed, and he couldn't escape the feeling of being trapped.
"I've come so far, but my mother still has control over me."
Images of his mother's sacrifices and the hardships of their earlier life haunted him. He couldn't help but remember the woman who had done whatever it took to ensure her son's success.
As he reflected on their journey, he grappled with the knowledge that he was not entirely free from his past, that the shadow of his mother's influence still loomed large.
After his mother's departure, Michael seethed with anger and resentment. This encounter was a stark reminder that, despite his vast wealth and power, he still fell under his mother's authority. He was now a successful and influential man, but she still had the power to command his actions and expect unwavering obedience.