Chapter 3 Beneath the surface

Chapter 3: Beneath the surface

Chapter 3: Beneath the Surface

As the woman's eyes locked onto mine, a shiver ran down my spine. Her piercing green gaze seemed to bore straight into my soul, as though she were searching for something hidden within me. I tried to hold her stare, but my eyes darted away, betraying my nervousness.

"Valerie," she said again, her voice smooth and elegant. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you."

A flicker of surprise passed through me. What had Jake told her about me? And more importantly-who exactly was she?

Almost as if she had read my thoughts, she answered, "I'm Jake's mother."

My heart skipped a beat. "Mrs. Sanders?" I blurted.

She nodded slightly, offering a polite smile.

When I reached out to take her hand, a jolt of electricity ran through me. Her handshake was firm but not forceful, her skin cool and soft. There was something disarming about her poise.

"Please, have a seat," she said, gesturing toward the plush sofa behind me. "Can I offer you something else to drink? Perhaps... something stronger?"

I hesitated, unsure of what to say. But then I caught a glimmer of warmth in her eyes, and my tension began to ease.

"I'm already having tea, thank you, ma," I replied, doing my best to sound composed.

She nodded and rang a small silver bell on the coffee table. As she turned, the light caught her silver hair, casting a soft halo around her head. She was the embodiment of refined elegance, and beside her, I felt clumsy and out of place.

But when she turned back to me, a gentle smile on her face, a strange sense of reassurance washed over me. Maybe this won't be as bad as I thought.

"So, Valerie," she said, as a young woman appeared carrying a tray with a steaming teapot and two delicate china cups. "Tell me-what brings you here today?"

I took a deep breath, my throat dry as I tried to gather my thoughts. How do I tell her about the baby? And what would she think once she found out?

But when I looked into her eyes again, I saw something unexpected-kindness, even understanding. In that moment, I felt like I could trust her.

"I'm here to see Jake," I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper. "I have something important to tell him."

Jake's mother tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable. "I see," she said. "Well, Jake is... indisposed at the moment. But I'm sure he'll be happy to see you when he's available."

A pang of disappointment hit me. Indisposed? What did that mean?

But something in her eyes caught my attention. A flicker of something-worry? Fear?

I leaned forward, my pulse quickening. "Is everything okay?" I asked, my voice trembling now.

She hesitated. Her gaze flickered away from mine, and in that pause, I knew-something was wrong.

"Everything is fine, Valerie," she said at last. "Jake is just tied up... with business matters."

Her voice was measured and calm, but her eyes told a different story. They glimmered with a hint of something she was trying to hide.

"Business matters?" I repeated, my skepticism clear.

She nodded, forcing a tight smile. "Yes, that's right. He's been very busy lately." Her eyes wandered around the room before settling back on mine.

Frustration surged within me. Why the evasive answers? What was really going on?

"Can I see him?" I asked, my tone firmer now.

Another pause. Her fingers fidgeted in her lap, twisting together as she avoided my gaze.

"I'm afraid that's not possible right now," she said softly, almost apologetically.

Heat rushed to my face. Why is she keeping me from him? First he disappears from school, and now this?

Before I could stop myself, I slammed my hands down on the armrest, startling her.

But then I caught the look in her eyes-sadness, heavy and raw. Her eyes were rimmed with red, as though she had been crying not long ago.

My anger dissolved, replaced by concern. What was she hiding? And why did it hurt her so much?

"Please," I said quietly, my voice softening. "I need to see him."

She looked at me for a long moment, her eyes searching mine. Then she stood, her posture stiff and formal.

"Well, my dear," she said, her voice low and measured, "I'm truly sorry. Jake is extremely busy. He isn't taking visitors from school."

She paused, then added, "If your message is urgent, you may leave it with me."

Without waiting for a reply, she turned toward the staircase and gestured to one of the bodyguards nearby. Her movements were rigid, rehearsed.

A tall man-at least six foot two-stepped forward and extended an arm, wordlessly guiding me toward the door.

It felt like something out of a movie, like the moment everything unravels. My vision blurred with tears I refused to let fall.

As I followed the guard out, one thought echoed in my mind:

What are they hiding from me... and why?