“True.” He smiled. “I heard you were removed from your seat on the committee a few years ago for illegally carrying a gun.”
“I haven’t had a chance to go back since.”
He clapped his hands.
As if lamenting her loss.
“But this time is different.”
“If this case goes well—”
“That position might just be yours.”
The air fell silent for a moment.
My mother looked up at him.
Her eyes were cold and devoid of warmth.
“Dominic.”
“If you don’t want to spend your whole life at the bottom.”
“Stop talking nonsense.”
She slammed her cup down.
“Get to work.”
At that moment.
The entire operations room fell silent.
I stood beside her.
Suddenly, I felt like laughing.
So.
My life.
If it could bring her back to that position.
In her eyes—
it would probably be a worthwhile trade.
“Mom.”
“If that’s really the case.”
“Then the cost of ‘raising’ me all these years will finally be recouped.”
I said softly to myself.
I don’t know why.
She suddenly paused.
It was as if something had gently touched a nerve.
She took out her phone.
Frowning, she scrolled through it for a while.
As if searching for something.
Then—
She dialed a number.
My number.
She hadn't even saved a name.
Just a cold, impersonal number.
In contrast.