My Mogul Mother Gifted Me A Younger Lover Chapter 2

Dana, my mother's secretary, escorted me into Vicky Sterling's presence half an hour later.

Five years had passed, and my mother was more formidable, more stunning than ever. The sharpness in her dark eyes felt like a physical assault. My legs went soft, and my first instinct was to bolt.

"Scared, Anna? Still so gutless." She saw right through me.

That was always the way it was. Even at my lowest, my mother’s first instinct was to wound. My eyes immediately began to sting, and my throat tightened.

"Yes, I'm useless," I whispered, the bitterness overwhelming me. "That's why my life is a mess. That's why I'm here." He promised to love me forever. It had only been five years.

Vicky ignored the plea for comfort and twisted the knife. "What can you do besides throw temper tantrums at my feet? You couldn't even keep a mediocre man interested. Are you satisfied with your failure?"

Her words broke the dam. The tears I’d been holding back all morning streamed down my face.

"I am useless! I'm a mess! I don't know what to do when my husband cheats!" I wailed, collapsing onto the leather sofa, grabbing fistfuls of tissues. "Go ahead, call me a loser! I don't even want to live anymore!"

Vicky looked past me to Dana. "Record that, Dana. This pathetic display is perfect for the internet."

My sobbing stopped instantly. I stared at her, horrified.

"Mom! How can you—I'm your daughter!"

Vicky walked over and sharply poked me in the forehead.

"How did I give birth to such a pathetic coward?"

She was a force of nature. When she found out my father had cheated right after I was born, she divorced him without a word. She took his small appliance company and built it into a multinational high-end electronics firm. Once, when a foreign vendor tried to fleece her, she swept the entire negotiation table clean. "Do you think we Americans are easy to cheat? If you try to back out of this contract, I'll make sure you never see home again. We'll both go down."

My fierce, lioness of a mother had somehow produced me—a classic example of a doormat. Other than decent grades, I had none of her fire. I was a hopeless romantic, a love drunk who had married Blake simply because I was obsessed with his handsome face, despite my mother's warnings that he was untrustworthy.

Vicky stared at me for a long time, and a sliver of softening appeared in her expression. She sighed.

"He keeps a mistress, why don't you keep a boy? We certainly have the funds."

"I have a dozen students I sponsor for college. Pick one."

I was dumbfounded. "Mom! Are you telling me to cheat?"

She shook her head again. "No, Anna. I'm teaching you self-respect."

I was still reeling. I didn't see the connection, but I knew my mother's logic was absolute.

"Relationships are currency, Anna. They're built on mutual transaction," she stated, leaning back.

"When you married him, you were fresh, beautiful, and compliant. He was happy to spend his time and attention on you."

"Five years later, the novelty is gone. You stay home all day, looking like a tired house-sitter. To Blake, you have no business value, and you certainly have no emotional value. What, exactly, does he need you for?"

I mumbled, "But I gave him two children..."

"Any fertile woman can do that. And you are not a broodmare."

Vicky lit another cigarette, a slight, knowing smile playing on her lips.

"Anna, your grandparents raised you. I was working. I know they instilled a lot of outdated values in you. Things like 'be loyal' and 'be conscientious.' Those values aren't inherently wrong."

"But if you apply them to someone who doesn't deserve them, you're a fool. You're easy prey."

"I don't think Blake is wrong for cheating, frankly. If I were in his shoes, I'd probably do the same. It costs him nothing. He's secure in the knowledge that you'll just quietly suffer."

Her words sliced straight to my core. I wiped my eyes.

"So what do I do?"

"Go find a fun, young guy to play with."