Chapter 8 - The Begging
David struggled against the heavy grip of the security guards, his face flushing a bright, embarrassed red.
"Mom, please! You cut off our electricity! Claire is freezing in the dark!" he pleaded loudly.
The wealthy socialites standing around us gasped softly, whispering about his pathetic, humiliating display.
I looked at him, feeling absolutely no maternal warmth, only a deep, frozen wasteland where my love used to be.
"Claire threw me out into the street with a bleeding head and a fifty-dollar bill," I stated calmly, my voice carrying across the quiet room.
"I am simply returning the favor, David. Consider the utilities a permanent lesson in gratitude."
David dropped to his knees, ignoring the pain as they hit the hard marble floor.
"I didn't know, Mom! I didn't know you owned the condo! I am so sorry!" he cried pathetically.
I leaned down slightly, making sure my voice was low enough for only him to hear.
"You aren't sorry that you abused your mother, David. You are only sorry that your mother is rich."
I stood back up, smoothing the front of my expensive emerald gown with absolute grace.
"Throw him out. And if he comes back, have him arrested for trespassing," I ordered the guards.
They dragged him out the front doors as he screamed my name, completely shattering his arrogant pride.
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I turned back to the elegant party, raised my champagne glass, and smiled warmly at the senator.
"My apologies for the interruption. Now, where were we?" I asked, completely unbothered by the trash being taken out.
