Mrs. Johnson Chapman
"Alicia, are the meals ready yet? Bryan will be here any moment, and you know how he gets when he's hungry," I asked the head cook, who'd been with our family for over ten years.
Her once jet-black hair was streaked with gray now, showing how much time had passed.
"Oh yes, Mrs. Johnson. The table is all set," Alicia replied with a warm smile.
"Good. Once he arrives, send a maid to fetch me immediately," I instructed, sitting on the edge of my bed with my phone in hand.
"Yes, ma'am," she said, bowing slightly before walking out of the room.
I couldn't help but feel a little anxious. Bryan hadn't been home for months, and with each passing day, his father grew more impatient.
I knew how stubborn my son was, but I also knew how to handle him.
A soft knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts. "Ma'am, Sir Bryan has arrived," a maid informed me.
I straightened up immediately. "I'm coming," I replied, heading toward the living room.
As I entered, I spotted him lounging on the couch with headphones on, looking as composed as ever.
His sharp features, perfectly groomed hair, this reminded me of the man he'd grown into—my handsome baby boy.
"Bryan, baby," I called softly.
He pulled down his headphones and offered me a faint smile, the kind I recognized all too well.
It wasn't genuine; it was a shield, a reminder that he wasn't the boy who used to run to me for hugs anymore.
"Come on, let's eat. I had the cooks prepare your favorite dishes," I said, motioning toward the dining room.
He followed me, his steps steady and deliberate, as though he were walking into a meeting rather than sharing a meal with his mother.
"So, which of your many mansions have you been hiding in this time?" I asked, trying to make small talk as we started eating.
His movements were graceful as always, eating with the precision of someone trained to perfection.
"Mom, let's not waste time. We both know this isn't why you called me here," he said, his tone calm but firm, not even sparing me a glance.
Before I could respond, a familiar voice cut through the air.
"And who do we have here?"
Bryan's father, Mr. Chapman, strolled into the room, his presence as commanding as ever.
"My son, who ran away chasing his silly dancing career and forgot all about his responsibilities to this family," he said mockingly, taking a seat at the table.
Bryan didn't react. He didn't even look at his father. His focus remained on his plate, his expression unreadable.
"Darling, please," I said, trying to diffuse the tension. "This isn't the time for that."
"And when is the time, woman? Isn't he supposed to be running the family business by now? Instead, he's out there wasting time on some useless dancing," Mr. Chapman roared.
Bryan stood abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. Without a word, he stormed out of the dining room.
I glared at my husband.
"Look what you've done," I hissed, standing up to follow my son.
"Bryan, wait!" I called, catching up to him just as he was about to step into his car.
"What do you want, Mom?" he asked sharply, turning to face me. His tone made me flinch, but I didn't back down.
"Don't let what your father said get to you, sweetheart. He only wants what's best for you.
You're his firstborn, and he wants you to take over the business someday. Or do you want your stepbrother, Dave, to inherit everything?"
"I don't care about the family business, and you know it," Bryan snapped.
"I have my own money, more than enough to buy any company I want. So why does it matter?"
"This isn't just about you!" I cried, tears welling up in my eyes.
"It's about our family's legacy. If Dave inherits the business, everything your father and I built will go to waste. Please, Bryan, don't let that happen."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "So, what do you want from me?"
I smiled inwardly. I had him right where I wanted. Bryan could never stand to see me cry.
"You need to get married and start going to the company. It's time to learn how things work," I said firmly.
"Get Married?" he scoffed, his eyes narrowing.
"Yes. I've already chosen someone. She'll be sent to your mansion tomorrow," I said with a grin.
"You wouldn't dare," he growled, his jaw tightening.
"Please, Bryan," I pleaded, letting the tears fall freely again.
"Do it for me, if not for yourself."
He sighed heavily, defeated.
"Fine. Send her over. But I'm only doing this for you."
With that, he got into his car, and his driver sped off.
A victorious smile spread across my face.
Mia
The large man who escorted me earlier led me to a room and called for maids to help me bathe.
I refused at first, embarrassed at the thought, but they were insistent.
Eventually, I gave in.
The bath was warm and soothing, though I couldn't help feeling out of place.
Once I was dressed in a soft white robe, one of the maids brought in a tray of food.
"Please, sit. Here's your meal," she said politely, setting the tray down in front of me.
"Thank you," I muttered, eyeing the dishes hesitantly.
The food looked amazing, but I couldn't shake the thought that it might be some sort of trick.
My stomach growled loudly, and I decided to take the risk. As soon as I tasted the first bite, I couldn't stop.
The food was incredible, the best meal I'd ever had.
After finishing the meal, I leaned back and sipped the juice, letting out a contented sigh.
"This is heaven," I murmured to myself.
But then reality hit me like a cold wave. "Why was I here? What does Lord Bryan want from me?"
I stared out the window. The sun was setting, and the soft glow of twilight filled the room.
I was still stuck in this strange mansion, with no answers and no way out.
"You're done?" one of the maids asked, stepping into the room.
"Yes," I said softly, watching as she cleared the table.
"Can I ask you something?" I blurted out before she could leave.
She paused. "Of course."
"Why am I here? Do you know what he wants from me?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly.
"I'm sorry, Miss. I don't know. Only Lord Bryan can answer that," she replied before leaving the room.
I sighed heavily, exhaustion washing over me.
My body felt heavy, likely from the stress and the large meal.
I crawled into the bed, pulling the soft blanket over me.
As my eyes grew heavy, one thought lingered in my mind; I hope I'm here for a good reason.