Mr. President 2(203)

I don't know what to believe at this point, but I have to say that it does sound in line with what I've seen this woman who once claimed to be my mother do.

That leaves one question remaining that I need answers to.

I start walking the length of the room toward Mom.

Unlike before, where no one could recognize me, this time everyone is watching me as I walk forward. People that are standing around talking in hushed voices part for me as I walk up to her.

Mom looks up at me.

She's been crying.

Her whole body seems defeated.

But there's still no love in those eyes. No remorse. Rather a regret at having been caught.

"Did you know he was still alive?" I ask her, my eyes searching her face.

She looks at me for a moment and then shakes her head. "He must have wanted to get away from me bad enough that he literally killed himself. Only he didn't."

"Didn't you ever view the body?" I ask.

"I never even attended the funeral," she says, almost with a distracted air.

"The way Daniel put it to me, she wanted him dead so badly that when someone told her he was, she believed it because she wanted to," a voice says behind me and I turn around.

It's Mason.

All the last four days of waiting and the last harrowing hour of emotional ups and downs comes crashing down and all I can do is wrap my arms around him and bury my face in his chest.

His arms hold me tightly for what seems like forever.

That's fine by me. After everything we've been through I never want him to let me go.

But eventually he does. And he looks at me.

"Your father is at one of my hotels close by to here," Mason says, looking me in the eyes. "You can go see him whenever you like but he's asked if you wanted to take it slow, he's okay."

I nod. Instead of rushing over to go see him, it makes sense to discuss the whole thing with Mason first.

"He knew you were alive and had kept tabs on you but he never wanted to cause you any harm by coming back into your life and upsetting Lorna," he says, looking over at her. "Even though she said she never wanted you, at the time she made sure to make it clear that if he ever left her, she would keep you."

"She only must have done that to come out on top," I say slowly, as it dawns on me how incredibly fucked up my life really was. "To hurt him. The final insult."

Mason nods his head. "That's been her MO throughout her life. Don't just take, but completely destroy," he says to me. But this time, his eyes stay on Mom. "Isn't that right, Lorna?"

She looks at Mason with blank and vacant eyes. She's not used to losing so completely.

"I hope you're happy, Mason," she says. "You had to scorch the earth in order to beat me. I'll be surprised if there is even a Kane Price left six months from now."#p#分页标题#e#

Mason lets go of my shoulders and steps away from me.

"You've been trying to get your grubby little paws on this company ever since you caused your father's death," he says to her. "And that stops today."

"And you're the one who will stop me, Mason?" Mom asks, with the hint of a smile. "You're forgetting why I'm even here in the first place. I hold more stock in this company than anyone else except for you. There's nothing you can do about that."

"Stock that immediately loses voting rights and is liquidated in the event that you attempt to prevail against the interests of the corporation," Mason says as if he's been holding that one in for a while. "Or, if you go to jail."

That's when the two uniformed officers arrive.

"In this case, Lorna, both charges go very well against you," Mason concludes. "And that paper ownership certificate you have in Kane Price might as well be used for toiled paper in prison, since they don't provide you with any when you run out."

Mason nods to the detective who nods to the uniformed officers and they approach Mom.

"Lorna Lowell," the larger of the NYPD uniformed officers says as he takes out a pair of handcuffs. "You're under arrest for attempted conspiracy to commit fraud, money laundering, gross and egregious violations of the USA Patriot Act, and for violating multiple instances of the Foreign Corrupt Practices Act."

"You have the right to remain silent," another officer says as he starts reading her Miranda rights.

As the officer begins to read the woman I know as in various stages as Mom, or Lorna Lowell, I turn back to Mason.

He looks at me.

I can't help it. I don't care if everyone in this room is either watching us or pretending to wait till the cops are done so they can surreptitiously watch us.

No. I don't care about any of that anymore.

And neither does Mason.