Chapter 82: A Mother’s Sacrifice

Jordan looked at Rosie in bafflement, finally understanding her implication.

Jordan’s expression darkened. He hadn’t expected that.

It was a ruthless, calculating offer.

Rosie understood the humiliation Jordan had suffered—the president of Ace Corporation, a man of immeasurable wealth and power, had been betrayed and publicly shamed.

If Jordan accepted her offer, no one would dare ridicule him again.

Revenge wouldn’t come in the form of violence but in something far more personal—taking Tyler’s mother as his own.

Jordan stared at her in astonishment.

He never imagined she would be willing to go this far to protect her son.

“Mrs. Collins…”

His gaze flicked to the ring on her finger. He felt awkward, standing before a woman nearly twenty years his senior, making such an offer.

Rosie chuckled softly, sensing his discomfort. “Of course, I know I can’t compare to Hailey or Victoria Clarke. I’m not a young woman anymore.”

She smiled wryly. “I wouldn’t blame you if you’re not interested.”

Jordan remained silent.

Rosie had aged gracefully, exuding a refined beauty that rivaled many women in high society. But her offer wasn’t about attraction—it was about desperation.

Jordan sighed. “Mrs. Collins, you’re an elegant woman. There’s a charm in maturity that younger women don’t have.”

Rosie looked surprised at the compliment.

But Jordan’s next words shattered her hope.

“Even so, I have no interest in you.”

Her shoulders sagged. Her last-ditch effort had failed.

But then, Jordan added, “However…”

Rosie’s eyes flickered with a sliver of hope.

“I’ve heard that you sing well,” Jordan said. “If you’d like to stay, I’d be happy to listen to you sing.”

Rosie blinked, taken aback.

Jordan had once seen old videos of her singing—elegant, poised, reminiscent of the great songstresses of the past.

Grateful for his unexpected request, Rosie smiled. “Mr. Steele, I would be honored to sing for you. What kind of songs do you like?”

Jordan leaned back. “I once heard my grandfather talk about New York in the old days. He said it was the most elegant, romantic era—filled with music, class, and timeless performances.”

He glanced at her. “I’d like to hear something from that time.”

Rosie’s lips curled into a nostalgic smile. “My mother used to sing those classics… Give me a moment to prepare.”

Jordan nodded.

Twenty minutes later, an assistant delivered twenty vintage dresses—evidence of Rosie’s personal collection.

“Mr. Steele,” she said, laying them out. “Pick one for me.”

Jordan examined them carefully before selecting a long beige dress. “This one.”

Rosie took it with a graceful nod. “I’ll change, then sing You Are My Sunshine.”

---

Meanwhile, at the Collins’ villa—2:30 AM.

Leonard sat in the dimly lit living room, a cigarette burning between his fingers.

The ashtray was overflowing.

Tyler descended the stairs, looking relaxed—until he saw the storm brewing on his father’s face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Leonard stubbed out his cigarette. “Your mother went to see Jordan Steele. She hasn’t come home yet.”

Tyler froze.

His eyes flicked to the clock. 2:30 AM.

“What?” His voice was sharp. “Where is she?”

Leonard exhaled. “I tried calling her. Her phone’s off.”

Tyler’s stomach churned.

“Why would she turn off her phone? Something must have happened!” He grabbed his shoes. “Dad, let’s go look for her.”

Leonard didn’t move.

“Before she turned off her phone,” he said, voice low, “she texted me not to come.”

Tyler went deathly still.

His mind raced—flashing to the worst possible scenario.

His breath quickened.

His mother… with Jordan Steele?

---

Rosie returned home at 5 AM.

Leonard and Tyler had been waiting all night.

The moment she stepped inside, Tyler stormed toward her.

“Mom, where were you?!” His voice was raw with rage. “Did that bastard do something to you?”

Rosie’s face hardened.

“Enough,” she snapped. “Don’t provoke Jordan Steele again. He’s not someone you can afford to mess with.”

Tyler’s hands clenched into fists.

Rosie turned to Leonard. “Jordan has agreed not to harm Tyler. He’s safe now.”

Leonard’s eyes blazed with fury.

Without warning, he struck her across the face.

SMACK!

“You disgraceful woman!” he roared. “Who gave you permission to do this?!”

Rosie barely flinched. She touched her cheek but held her head high.

“I won’t stand by and watch my son be destroyed.” Her voice was steady. “Leonard, our business is over. We are no longer rich. We lost our pride a long time ago.”

Tyler’s body trembled.

“No! NO!” His voice cracked as he turned on his mother. “Grandma is rich! The Huxleys are one of New York’s top families! Tell them to help me! We can kill Jordan Steele!”

Rosie shook her head.

“My family disapproved of my marriage to your father. They won’t help us now.”

She sighed. “It’s over, Tyler. Accept it.”

Tyler staggered back.

“No. I won’t accept it.”

His breath came in ragged pants, rage overtaking reason.

If his mother wouldn’t beg the Huxleys for help…

Then he would.

His voice shook with barely contained fury.

“Jordan Steele humiliated us… he violated you… I won’t let him get away with it!”

Before anyone could stop him, Tyler stormed out of the villa.

Rosie’s heart clenched.

Leonard, his face stone-cold, didn’t stop him.

He merely muttered, “Foolish boy.”

Rosie stared at the door long after her son had disappeared into the night.

And for the first time in years…

She truly feared for what would happen next.