Richard’s POV
The penthouse greets me with silence as the sound of my foot echoes against the marble floor.
Just before I can get to the foyer of the living room, my phone rings, breaking the stillness and quiet of the house.
Dumping my briefcase, I fish out the phone to see my mother's name flashing across the screen. I pick as I slouch on the sofa.
“Mom?”
“Are you home yet?” She asks with a concerned tone, making me wonder what could be wrong.
Our relationship over the years has gone from bad to worse to good. When my father died, she wanted me to take over his company, which I did. I did everything she wanted, including my choice of study, my university, and even marrying Arabel. I was a bad child then.
But when I divorced Arabel, our relationship became worse. We fought each time we met. She detests seeing me, so she said.
When she fell ill, I was at her bedside. I left the company and everything else to tend to her, which led to the downfall of my father's company. I cried every
