Part 3Let Go Of My Obsession To Save Others

The next morning, the receptionist called to inform me that Amber was downstairs making a scene. I had already instructed my staff that she was no longer associated with me, so no one was letting her up.

I sent my assistant down to handle it, telling her to have security throw Amber out if she became too disruptive. Then, I quietly signed off on a charitable scholarship program.

A few minutes later, my assistant rushed back into my office, pale and breathless. "Ma'am, Amber pulled out a pocket knife and slashed one of the guards across the arm. How should we proceed?"

"Call the police," I replied, my voice flat. "Do I really need to teach you how to handle a violent trespasser?"

Startled by my coldness, the assistant didn't ask further and immediately went to place the call.

As the police escorted Amber out in handcuffs, she shrieked like a maniac. "I am Valerie's daughter! This company is mine! Those guards are my employees! I can do whatever I want to them! Let go of me!"

Fool.

Because she was causing such a massive scene, I finally walked down to the lobby. She tried to lunge at me the moment she saw me, but the officers held her firmly.

"Mom! Mom, save me! They're trying to arrest me!"

I looked at her as if she were a complete stranger. My gaze drifted to the plastic evidence bag containing the pocket knife. I remembered her conversation with Jared from the video.

"I'll bring a knife tomorrow. If she doesn't give me the money, I'll hold it to my throat and force her."

And Jared had fondly replied, "Smart girl."

"Mom, what are you standing there for? Tell them to let me go!" Amber demanded.

I offered a polite, apologetic smile to the officers. "I am sorry for the trouble, officers. Please handle this strictly by the book. This girl signed an agreement severing our relationship weeks ago. Even if she were still my daughter, no one is above the law."

Amber panicked. When she panicked, she lost all filter, just like her father.

"Valerie! You bitter old hag! You just hate seeing me happy! You're trying to force me to crawl back to you! I would rather die than call you my mother! Even when you're on your deathbed, I won't come to see you!"

Her venomous words no longer had any power over me.

"Don't worry," I said softly. "You won't have to."

Shortly after she was taken away, my private investigator sent a photograph. It showed Jared lurking in the shadows outside my building, recording a video of the arrest on his phone.

I sneered. They were playing the exact same card as in my past life. Did they honestly think I would yield to public pressure this time?

In my previous life, there had been no arrest, so there was no video. Instead, Amber had posted a fabricated sob story online along with a few carefully staged photos, accusing me of extreme maternal abuse.

She had claimed that I controlled her entire life, from what she ate to what she wore, and that I denied her basic personal freedom even as an adult. She wrote that when she fell in love, I went into a psychotic rage, beat her, locked her in a room without food, and tried to force a breakup.

She labeled me a monster, a lunatic, a woman unfit to be a mother. She declared that she hated me more than anyone on earth, and that she would have been infinitely happier living with her father.

With a few pictures of self-inflicted bruises, she painted me as the ultimate villain.

I couldn't remember how viciously the internet had torn me apart back then. All I remembered was the crushing, suffocating pain in my chest when I read her words.

I had genuinely believed she was being held hostage and coerced by Jared.

So I had called her, begging to know if she was in danger.

The moment the call connected, Jared snatched the phone. He told me that if I wanted my daughter back in one piece, I needed to wire him two million dollars.

I hadn't hesitated. As long as my daughter was safe, I would have given him everything.

He warned me not to involve the police, threatening her life. Terrified for her safety, I kept transferring funds. Every time I heard her weeping on the phone, begging me to save her, my heart broke into a million pieces.

Eventually, Jared demanded that I transfer the ownership of my company to his name before he would release her.

I agreed, believing that as long as we were alive, we could always rebuild.

I gathered the legal documents and went to meet Jared. Just as I was about to sign, I spotted Amber hiding behind a pillar.

Blinded by maternal instinct, I hadn't noticed how relaxed she looked. I ran to her, weeping, pulling her into my arms. "Amber, thank God you're safe. Mommy is here."

She had shoved me away with a look of pure disgust. "You smell like sweat. Get away from me. Just sign the papers, we're in a hurry."

I froze. "What?"

Jared dropped his act, chuckling as he stepped forward. "Ma'am, Amber and I are getting married. You want her to be happy, don't you? Sign the papers so we can go get our marriage license."

"Oh, and she's pregnant," he added. "If I don't marry her, she'll be a ruined woman."

I stared at Amber in utter disbelief. She patted her stomach, looking at me with immense impatience. "Just sign it. It's all going to be mine eventually anyway. What's the difference if you hand it over now?"

I hadn't signed. I took the papers and walked away, utterly shattered, her sharp, demanding voice ringing in my ears. My own daughter, cursing and blaming me for her own choices.

It was a tragic joke.

The morning after Amber’s arrest at my office, the familiar smear campaign made its debut online. The edited video of my cold response to the police went viral, accompanied by Amber's sob story.

She also posted photos of fresh cuts and bruises, claiming I had beaten her.

I had never raised a hand against her. In reality, she was the one who had physically assaulted me several times for Jared's sake.

My investigator sent over another video. To make the photos look convincing, Jared had physically beaten Amber at her own request. This girl, pampered her entire life, had willingly let a man bruise her just to destroy her own mother.

I began to wonder if there had been a mix-up at the hospital. How could a child of mine carry such deep, senseless malice?

With my secret assistance behind the scenes, the scandal gained massive traction, topping the trending charts within three days.

Amber and Jared even went on a local talk show, playing the role of tragic young lovers torn apart by an abusive, tyrannical matriarch. They wept on camera, begging for their freedom.

"I couldn't breathe in that house," Amber sobbed to the interviewer. "She treated me like a possession, not a human being. I just want to escape her shadow and live my life with the man I love."

My office phone rang off the hook with angry callers. My well-trained staff remained calm, politely stating, "Please reserve your judgment. Valerie will address the matter publicly this afternoon."

Before the broadcast, I agreed to meet Amber and Jared one last time. I had unblocked her number specifically to receive this invitation.

We met at the same quiet cafe from my previous life, choosing a secluded booth in the corner.

The moment they arrived, they ordered nearly half the menu without a hint of courtesy.

Amber didn't even bother calling me Mom.

"Valerie," she said, leaning across the table. "I assume you've seen the news?"

"I have," I replied calmly. "And what is it you want?"

"This scandal is tanking your company’s stock, isn't it?" she sneered. "If you want us to take the videos down and clear your name, you do exactly what I say."

"Go on. I'm listening."

"First, wire ten million dollars to my account. Then, sign the company over to me. As for real estate, you can keep a small condo, but all your other properties must be transferred to my name."

Their greed had grown even larger than in my previous life.

I looked at my own reflection in the darkened window, my eyes cold and dead.

"And what else, Amber? What else do you want from me?"

She turned to consult Jared. He nudged her, whispering urgently, "The cars! Demand the cars!"

"And your cars," Amber parroted. "All of them..."

Jared interrupted, his voice hushed but demanding, "We agreed to split it down the middle! The cars go to you, but the house and the company go under my name!"

I watched their frantic calculations, a silent sneer curling inside my chest.

Amber hesitated for a moment, but Jared quickly smoothed it over, coaxing her. "We're getting married anyway, baby. What's mine is yours. Let's just get the assets secured first."

Amber turned back to me. "The cars too. Don't bother keeping them, you won't be able to afford the maintenance anyway. I'm giving you twenty-four hours, Valerie. Have the paperwork ready by tomorrow, or things are going to get very ugly for you."

"Ugly? How so, Amber? Lest you forget, you forced me to sign a parental waiver. Your name has been legally removed from my household registry. In the eyes of the law, you are a stranger to me."

She waved her hand dismissively. "Who cares about being your daughter? I just want the assets."

"If you aren't my daughter, what right do you have to demand my life's work? Why should I give you a single cent?"

Her face contorted, her voice rising to a screech. "Because it belongs to me! You should have handed it over years ago! When you die, it's all mine anyway! If you don't want to be utterly ruined online, you'll hand it over. Trust me, I can make your life a living hell."

She leaned in, a malicious grin stretching across her face. "You wouldn't want me to leak the real reason you and Dad divorced, would you? I know all about your disgusting past, Valerie."

I stood up, looking down at her with absolute detachment. "Let's get a DNA test, Amber. I truly doubt you're my flesh and blood. How can anyone be this vile?"

She scoffed, entirely unbothered. "You brought this on yourself by withholding what is rightfully mine. I can ruin you, and I will."

I nodded slowly. "Understood. From this moment on, any remaining shred of affection I held for you is gone. I have no daughter."

I turned and walked away.

She screamed after me, "You booked this table! Pay the bill!"

I kept walking. People like her didn't deserve a single dime of my money.

I stepped into my waiting car and instructed the driver to take me directly to the studio of the city's most influential media outlet. My assistant and investigator were already there waiting. I was ready for my live interview.