Say Less I Love You Episode 3

Chapter 30

Jacob

A knock interrupts my thoughts as I pore over the latest financial reports for Stone Hospital. I glance up, mildly annoyed. Linda peeks her head in.

"Several people are here to see you," she says, her tone suggesting it’s more of a command performance than a casual visit.

"Let them in," I reply, curiosity piqued.

To my surprise, my mother walks in first, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. Behind her trails an army of lawyers, each one looking grimmer than the last. 

“Mom,” I say, bracing myself. The storm is here, and it’s wearing Louboutins.

She wastes no time, diving right in. “Jacob my dear, please say you have came to your senses?”

“Came to my senses?” I raise an eyebrow. “Oh, you mean my engagement?”

“Yes, that exactly,” she snaps. “Pardon my french, but this shit show has gone on long enough. It's becoming embarrassing.”

I lean back in my chair, arms crossed. “Oh, do tell me how I’m embarrassing the family this time.”

“That's irrelevant at the moment, If you don’t retract this sham of an engagement,” she says, her voice a dangerous whisper, “I will have no choice but to unseat you from the Board.”

A laugh escapes me. “Unseat me? You mean a coup d'état by designer handbag?”

“Don’t test me, boy. You don't know what I'm capable of,” she warns. 

I stand firm, meeting my mother’s steely gaze head-on. “I won’t back down.”

Her expression hardens like concrete. “Then I have no choice.” She nods at her lawyer, a weaselly man who looks like he’s permanently smelling something foul.

He steps forward, extending a manila envelope towards me. “You’re being served,” he says, almost gleefully.

I snatch the envelope and tear it open. “Challenging my position as Chairman and CEO? Citing ‘erratic behavior’? This is rich, even for you, mom.”

“You’ve left me no choice,” she replies icily. “You're risking everything with these… antics of yours."

“My antics?” I scoff. “You mean me actually finding someone I care about?”

“Care about?” she sneers. “You met her a few weeks ago. This isn’t some fairy tale, Jacob. You’re playing with fire.”

“And you’re dousing everything in gasoline,” I retort, slamming the papers down on my desk.

She steps closer, her eyes narrowing. “Think about what you’re doing. Is this woman worth losing everything we’ve built?”

“Everything we’ve built?” I laugh bitterly. “Last I checked, I’m the one running this place while you play puppet master behind the scenes.”

“You always were dramatic,” she says with a wave of her hand.

“And you always were controlling,” I fire back. “But this time, you’ve overplayed your hand.”

“Have I?” She tilts her head slightly. “The board doesn’t think so.”

“Oh, the board.” I roll my eyes. “A bunch of old men who’d rather see me married off to Trixa than actually make any real changes around here.”

“Those ‘old men’ hold your future in their hands,” she snaps.

“And if they think they can bully me into submission, they’re sorely mistaken.” My voice drops to a dangerous low.

She straightens up, trying to regain her composure. “Jacob, be reasonable.”

“Reasonable? You want reasonable?” I take a step closer to her. “How about this: stay out of my personal life and let me do my job.”

She flinches slightly but recovers quickly. “You think this is just about your personal life? This is about the future of Stone Hospital.”

“And that future includes Nyla,” I state firmly.

The tension in the room tightens like a noose. Mom’s eyes bore into mine, the air between us thick with unspoken history and resentment.

“You always think you know best,” I say, voice low and controlled. “But this time, you’re dead wrong.”

“Am I?” Her tone is as sharp as a scalpel. “I’ve spent my life protecting this family’s legacy. You’re throwing it away for a woman you barely know.”

“I know enough,” I snap. “Enough to realize she’s not like the gold diggers you’ve paraded in front of me.”

Her nostrils flare. “This isn’t about gold diggers. It’s—”

“It’s about control!” I cut her off, stepping closer. “You can’t stand that I’m making my own decisions.”

“Your decisions are reckless,” she counters, voice rising. “You’re acting like a petulant child.”

“A child?” I scoff. “Look who’s talking, running to the board because things aren’t going your way.”

She squares her shoulders, eyes narrowing to slits. “I’m trying to save you from yourself.”

I laugh, bitterly. “No, you’re trying to save your version of me. The perfect son who does exactly what Mommy wants.”

“That’s not fair,” she hisses.

“Life isn’t fair,” I retort. “And neither is love.”

She shakes her head, exasperated. “You’re blinded by infatuation.”

“And you’re blinded by your need to control everything,” I say, leaning in so we’re almost nose-to-nose. “But here’s the thing: I’m done being your puppet.”

Her lips press into a thin line. “This isn’t over, Jacob.”

“Oh, I’m sure it isn’t,” I reply coolly.

She straightens up, looking every bit the matriarch she believes herself to be. “I’ll see you in front of the Board,” she declares, her words dripping with finality.

“Can’t wait,” I shoot back.

With that, she turns on her heel and strides out of my office, her entourage trailing behind her like obedient shadows.

I stand there for a moment, heart pounding, mind racing. The battle lines are drawn, and the war for control over my life has just begun.

But one thing is clear: I’m not backing down.

Not now.

Not ever.