A Night With The Ruthless Billionaire

"Emma," my mother calls, squeezing my hands tightly. Her grip is weak, but there's something urgent in her touch, something that sends a shiver through me.

"I'm going to tell you about the Cardwells," she says, her voice trembling as tears well in her eyes. "But not now." Her voice cracks, and she begins to cry, her frail shoulders shaking under the weight of whatever she's keeping from me.

My heart twists as I watch her fall apart, a part of me regretting dragging her into this mess. I know she's not strong enough for this, not with her heart the way it is, but I can't help feeling frustrated. What's she hiding?

"Mom," I whispered, trying to soothe her. "It's okay, you don't have to talk about it now. We can go to the police first."

She nodded, sniffling softly. " Yes, let's go to the police first," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper.

I helped her back to bed, my mind racing with questions. What could she possibly know about the Cardwells that would make her so afraid? And why does she keep postponing telling me?

...….

The next day, we walked into the police station, my mother gripped my hand tightly as we approached the front desk. I was shaking, terrified of what comes next, but I try to keep it together for her. For both of us.

The officer behind the desk looked forward as we approaches, his expression bored, indifferent. "How can I help you?" His voice is calm, his gaze fixed on us.

My mother steps forward, her voice firm despite her physical weakness. "We'd like to report a crime," she says, her hand squeezing mine reassuringly. "My daughter was assaulted."

The officer straightens up, taking a clipboard from the desk and nodding slowly. "Alright," he says, in a calm tone. "Why don't you come with me, and we'll take your statement."

We're led to a small, windowless room at the back of the station. The fluorescent lights overhead hum softly, casting an eerie glow on the beige walls. I sit down, my heart pounding in my chest as the officer pulls out a notepad and a pen.

"Go ahead," he says, looking at me expectantly.

I take a deep breath, my palms sweating. "It happened a few days ago, at the hotel where I work," I began, my voice shaking. "I was cleaning a suite, and this man came in. He was drunk, and …" My throat tightens as I struggle to get the words out. "He forced himself on me."

The officer nods, jotting down notes. "Do you know the identity of this man?"

I hesitate, my stomach churning with nerves. "Yes," I whisper. "It was Alex Cardwell."

The officer's pen freezes mid-sentence, his eyes flicking up to meet mine. "Cardwell?" He repeats, his tone suddenly cautious.

I nod, bracing myself for his reaction.

He stares at me for a moment, then stands abruptly, the notepad still clutched in his hand. "Wait here," he says curtly, before disappearing out of the room.

I glance at my mother, who looks as confused as I feel. "What's happening?" I ask, but she shakes her head, worry flickering in her eyes.

Several minutes pass, and the officer returns, his face carefully blank. "I've spoken with my superiors," he says, his tone flat and emotionless. "And I'm afraid there's nothing we can do at this time."

My blood runs cold. "What?" I whisper. "What do you mean, there's nothing you can do? I was assaulted!"

He doesn't meet my eyes. "I understand this is difficult," he says, his voice rehearsed, like he's said this a thousand times. "But the Cardwells are a very powerful family. The investigation… it won't go anywhere. My hands are tied."

The weight of his words hit me like a punch to the stomach. I feel the room closing in on me, my breath coming in short, panicked gasps. "You're saying that just because he's influential, he can get away with this?"

I try to hold back my tears, but the weight of everything - the violation, the helplessness, the fear - it's too much. My breath hitches, and before I can stop it, the dam breaks. I sob, my body shaking as my mother pulls me into her arms.

The officer looks uncomfortable, his gaze fixed on the floor. "It's not that simple," he mutters.

I can barely hear him over the rush of blood in my ears. "So that's it?" I choke out. "You're just going to let him go?"

My mother stands, fury burning in her eyes. "This is a crime," she snaps, her voice trembling with rage. "You have an obligation to investigate this!"

The officer sighs, looking pained. "I'm sorry," he says quietly. "But this is beyond us."

I stand up, my legs shaking beneath me. "Come on, Mom," I mutter, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the door. "There's no point."

My mother protests, but I drag her out of the station, the officer's indifferent gaze following us as we leave.

...

We step outside into the cool morning air, the world feeling like a cruel, twisted version of what it once was. The Cardwells have so much power, they can bury the truth without a second thought. They can make everything disappear, even the justice I so desperately need.

My mother looks at me, her eyes filled with pain and helplessness. "Emma, I'm so sorry…" she whispers, her voice breaking. "I didn't realize…"

I shake my head, my throat too tight to speak. The weight of it all presses down on me, suffocating, as I lead her toward the street. The reality of the situation is too much to bear 

....

That night, as I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, the anger I've been holding back bubbles to the surface. I can't let this go. 

Alex Cardwell thinks he can use his money and his power to control everything, but he's wrong.

I make a vow, right then and there, in the dark silence of my room.

I will find a way to make him pat. One way or another.

....

The door creaks open, and my mother steps in, her face pale and drawn. "Emma…" she starts, her voice low and shaky.

"Mother, you need to rest," I say, motioning for her to sit with me. But I notice her hands trembling, her knuckles white as the clutches the edge of the door. Something is wrong - terribly wrong.

She bursts into tears suddenly, burying her face in her hands. "I'm sorry, Emma. I've failed you." Her sobs are heart wrenching, raw with guilt and something deeper.

"Mom," I reach for her, but she pulls back, pacing the room like a caged animal, her fear palpable.

"There's so much I haven't told you, so much you don't know," she says, her voice cracking under the strain.

"The Cardwells - they aren't just powerful . They… they control everything, Emma. Everything."

Her words sends a chill down my spine. "What do you mean?" 

She pauses, her eyes dark and haunted. "Years ago… We were involved with someone from their family. Alex's father."

My heart stops, the air thickening around us. "What?" I gasp. "You knew his father?"

She nods, wiping her tears with trembling hands. "Yes, I thought I'd left it all behind. But not…" she looks at me, her eyes pleading for forgiveness. "Now you're caught up in something far worse than you realize."

I swallow hard, the weight of her confession sinking in, "Mom, what are you saying?"

She shakes her head, as if the truth is unbearable to speak. "There are things about the Cardwells, Emma. Dark things. I never wanted you to know. I wanted to protect you. But now… now I'm afraid I can't ."

I move close to her, holding her hands. "Mother, please you're not yet strong for all these."

My mother hastily left my room, and I followed her. As I step into the room, my breath catches in my throat. Scattered on the floor are photos - old faded, and unmistakably connected to the Cardwells.

My mother tries to gather them, her hands trembling, but I freeze as my eyes land on one. Alex's father… standing next to my Mom, arm draped around her waist, smiling as though they were more than acquaintances. 

I feel the world closing in on me. What is my mother hiding?