Chapter 0003

With my heart racing, I follow the officers, determined to uncover the source of the disturbance. As I rounded the corner, my breath caught in my throat when I saw the appearance of someone lashing out, slapping someone. Someone familiar, someone I never expected to see in such a predicament with a force that echoed through the room.

It was my mother who was being slapped by one of her customers, Mrs Rodriquez.

Shock and disbelief washed over me as I struggled to make sense of the scene unfolding before my eyes. How could this be happening? What had led my own mother to be slapped by someone not up to her level as she always claimed?

Shock and horror coursed through me as I watched my mother stagger backward, her hand flying to her cheek in disbelief as she collapsed within a second with her assistant manager gripping her to stand.

"The police will find out. What should I do?" I read the words forming on her lips. She whispers to her manager's eardrum. I can see the look of realization in my mother's eyes after her manager let his mouth away from her ear.

"What are you doing? You should round up these people!" Mrs Rodriquez welled out in anger.

"Emma," tears welled up in her eyes as she looked up after calling me.

"Yes, Mother" Without a second thought, I rushed to her side, my heart breaking at the sight of her pain.

"Mother," I cried out, my voice trembling with emotion as I knelt down beside her, wrapping my arms around her trembling firm.

"What happened? Are you okay?"

Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked at me, her expression, one of pleasing desperation. "Please help me out," she whispered hoarsely, her voice barely audible above the clamar around us.

"Yes, mother. What do I have to do?" my heart sank like a stone feeling depressed seeing my mother like this.

"You have to help me. You have to lie for me, tell them you did this," she whispered, holding my hand firm.

"What?" confusion and disbelief washed over me as her words sank in. Lie? But why?

"Miss Emma made the painting. She said that she could plagiarize the style of another artist and offered to split the profits with me," the reporter's camera continued to snap away, taking down the news.

"After Miss Emma made the painting, I masked its

origins and showed it to ma'am. The painting you bought previously was also done by Miss. Emma. "

"Mr. Foden," I tried to fight back the lies uttered against me but my mother grabbed my hands, leaving me to remain her level.

"Emma, please. We need to stop matters from blowing up for the company. You know people love to gossip," gasping in shock, her request felt like a dagger in my heart.

"Miss Emma. Is he telling the truth?" The question of the police cut the attention of everyone waiting for my answer.

"Mother," turning my face away from him to my mother with loads of water welled up in my eyes.

"Just play along for now. You just need to stay silent at the police station," her eyes become wide open as she speaks. "I'll get you an attorney immediately," she whispered hoarsely.

"Did you do all this?" I move closer to her to fill the remaining space between us. "You mean you knew what was going on?"

"Does that matter right now?" Now I believe Amory is right about them all. I let go of my mother's hand.

I sigh, "Mr. Foden. Why did you…" He doesn't give me a chance to finish my sentence.

"I have evidence too," a look of surprise ran through me. "In Miss Emma's car, there will be a list of transactions in the paper company account containing the funds. Besides this work, there are also others she has done before," I now remember he called me that my mother asked me to help her come up with a document in her wardrobe. My bad I should have opened it but will I know anything if really I do?

As I stood in the harsh glare of the police, accusations hurled at me like stones, I felt my breath catch in my throat. My caring attitude has been used against me.

"Miss Emma, please come with us to the station. We'll give you the details there."

As the police instructed me to follow them to the station, fear clenched my heart like a vice. Knew I was in trouble, and the thought of facing the consequences of my mother's actions sent shivers down my spine. But just as the police brought out his cuffs to click it around my wrists, my mother's voice pierced through the chaos, pleading with the officers to spare me.

"It's my fault as a mother. I'm the one who didn't raise her well. Please arrest me instead, officer," she implored, her eyes brimming with tears. But I could see the deception lurking beneath her facade of concern. It was her own misdeeds that threw me to this moment, and now she was willing to throw me under the bus to protect her precious daughter's company.

As she spun her web of lies, my fear turned to anger and betrayal. How could she ask me to take the fall for her mistakes? Despite her outward display of maternal love, I could see the cold calculation in her eyes. She wasn't worried about me, she was only concerned about saving herself and her precious daughter's company.

And as the reality of her betrayal sank in, I realized that I needed to run for my life, otherwise, I would spend almost the rest of my life in jail with no one caring for bail.

I took three deliberate steps backward, breaking free from the grip of the officers in that split second as their attention shifted toward my mother. I seized the opportunity to make a break of it because I needed Zayn to save me now.