Vincent's pov

A meeting with my mother today was the last thing I would have expected . James always had his way of making me visit her despite my daily sworn allegiance to not ever see her except it was necessary. Unfortunately, one of those exceptions had to be today. Hannah had me acting out of line.

Exiting my Lamborghini and lost in thought, my head hit the elevated door. My forehead pulsed and I hissed, massaging it with the heel of my palm. This day couldn't get any bloody worse. My mother's butler, Jonathan walked to me with a smile on his face. I didn't know how it was possible for someone to always smile all the time especially when they were working for my headache of a mother.

"Mr Black," he said, bowing his head slightly. "I am glad we meet again."

"Likewise, Mr Jonathan." I glanced around the home.

As expected, Mother had done her usual makeover. The home was a two winged mansion with white Corinthians columns and little amount of ornamentals. Unfortunately, she had decided to clog every inch of the place with flowers of all kinds. Vines creeped over the walls and even snaked around the columns. As annoyed as I appeared at the situation, I couldn't deny she did a splendid job.

In the driveway I parked, I spotted a red SUV. My mother didn't drive that kind of car. Whoever could this person be? Jonathan had a nervous smile creep up on his face. Something was up.

"Where is she?" I asked.

"She's expecting you in courtyard."

I left the driveway, my heart ramming in my chest. Apprehension, coated my thoughts as I scaled the compound. What could she possibly want with me when someone else was around? I cornered the house, entering the courtyard. It was flooded with cobblestones that had an intricate flower design in the middle. Two large apple tress stood at both ends and their shadow casted over the surface area of the courtyard. Birds chirped in the distance and my heart fell at the sight before me.

It was my mother, laughing heartily next to a man who looked like he was drawn out of a finance banking building. He sported a white shirt white, it's sleeves rolled up to reveal bulky hair arms. His head was shaved to the scalp and the lower half of his face was framed by a beard.

I narrowed my eyes. They were flirting? Excuse me for sounding confused but this was the first time in a long time I saw that look in my mother's eyes. It was the look she had during the first time she and my father got married and it hadn't left her eyes until the day she killed him. Even during the days she was abused, she always looked at him with those eyes. Eyes full of love.

Tears pooled at the corner of my eyes and I shut them. My jaws clenched. No, I couldn't afford to feel. Love was a lie. Mother didn't see it, but this man here would still hurt her the way my father did. I was a man. I knew how monstrous my mind was. Who was to say another man didn't think that same way?

I cleared my throat and they both froze. Mother spun her head to me and a smile crept on her face. It made my heart melt. We were both were monsters but I felt safe in her presence. She was a reminder that even monsters deserved to smile. But I hated that feeling. I hated that crack of humanity seeping into my consciousness. It was one of the reasons I always did my best to avoid her.

"Vincent," she said, standing and gesturing for me to come closer. "Come closer. I want you to meet someone."

"I want you to meet someone."

"Vincent, I want you to meet someone."

"I want you to meet someone."

"...you to meet someone."

"...meet someone."

"...meet someone."

A dizzy wave took over my head and I closed my eyes, aiming to stabilize myself. This was the twentieth time she had said this to me. Growing up, I was always meeting new men who always broke her heart and it was always this same old word; "I want you to meet someone."

I wasn't a fool. This was always going to end up the same way. Her heart would get hurt and she might end up losing her bloody head and go on another killing spree. The last time she went on one, it took a lot to conceal her tracks.

"Vincent, meet Jim Doncliffe, my fiance."

My breath caught. Her fiance? What did she mean her fiance? Was she planning on getting married? How long was this going on? These were all questions I had in my mind but couldn't dare ask. I didn't want her to think I cared. Why would I? This was a lie, a facade to make herself believe she could still find happiness. Well guess what? There was no happiness in this life. Not in this one and certainly not in the next.

I panned my gaze to Jim. "Mother, I didn't know you were getting married."

"Well that's what this meeting is for."

I approached the so-called couple and curled my hand around the backrest of a chair. "You do realize I postponed a board meeting because of this."

"Vincent, please."

Worry etched the lines Jim's forehead formed. He gulped and I smiled. Good. I needed him to know I disapproved of this union. Why did mother think she could find happiness? She ruined my life, made me the man I was today and suddenly decided to turn a new leaf. That wasn't happening, not under my watch.

I joined them at the table. There were servings of grilled chicken and some rice. I served myself and took a bite of chicken, chewing hard and observing Jim.

Clearing his throat, he said, "Your mother has told me a lot about you."

"Really?" I sliced my gaze to my sweet dear mama.

Did she tell you about how she made me clean up the corpse of her victims?

I stabbed my chicken and his eye lids flinched.

Did she tell you how she taught me to dispose a dead body?

I cut my chicken aggressively, watching the concern growing in Jim's blue eyes. He looked like a sweet guy. But sweet didn't exist in my world or my mother's world.

Our hearts were dark, our souls buried in an endless pit of black. We weren't allowed to feel. We took who we wanted and if they didn't want us, we unleash our wrath on the people that mattered to them. It was all a sick game and Mother was a queen on the chess piece, moving wherever she wanted and destroying her victims.

"So how did you and my mother meet?" I asked and poured myself some champagne.

He extended a hand to her forearm, his gaze a stronghold of sweet innocent love. "Well it was two years ago." Two years ago? She's been dating this bloke for that long?! "I had gone shopping for a new suit and your mother happened to be great friends with the tailor."

"You have friends?" I asked my mother, gaping in disbelief. I had always been keeping tabs on her but didn't believe she actually made friends. For the majority of my life, she had always loved going solo. However, I believe her loneliness fed into her obsession for wanting someone in her life. "You have friends."

"Yes, I do."

"That's surprising."

"Are you saying I'm incapable of making friends."

"I never said so. Perhaps you think so."

She frowned. "I don't."

"Good," I put on a fake smile and sipped some champagne, "Jim, please, go on."

He went on to talk about how his tailor set the both of them up and they've actually been dating for almost two years now.

"Interesting. I am happy for the two of you."

Mother inclined her head, her eyes telling tales of disbelief.

"However, what I find more interesting is how my mother never mentioned you to me." I leaned back. "Is there a reason why you didn't, Mother? Were you perhaps embarrassed?"

"No, no. Why would you say that?"

"You never talked to me about him and you've both been together for a long time now. I would've expected you to mention his name at least once."

My mother gave me a warning look. I smirked. This was fun. Jim was frozen in his seat, his gaze on his dish. He didn't know this, but I was probably doing him a favour. He wouldn't want a life with my mother. That was a death sentence.

"Hilary, is this true?" Jim asked, still staring off at his food.

She touched his hand but he took it off. "Jim..."

"You told me it was all good. You promised. I just need some time to-" he stood, the chair screeching against the concrete tiles, "I just need some time to process this."

He picked his blazer that hung on his chair, lodged it between his elbow and forearm, then left. A raging storm overtook Mother's cerulean gaze. Veins popped on her forehead and I could finally see the woman once I knew. The blood lusting monster I grew up with.

"That's more like it," I said, standing and taking out my phone. Raising it for a selfie, I pouted and said, "smile for the camera, Mrs Black. James asked for a picture."

Snap!