Page 64 of Certified Pressure 4
“Thank you for having me,” she replied, her tone soft, but her voice quivered slightly.
“Would you like tea or wine?” I asked as I gestured toward the sitting area. My voice was light, almost sweet in a way one might speak to an old acquaintance.
She hesitated, glancing around before answering. “Wine, please.”
“Of course.”
One of my staff disappeared through the side door, and I walked ahead, leading her toward the main living room. I could feel her gaze on me as I walked, studying me in that cautious way people do when they can’t quite figure out who they’re dealing with.
When we reached the sofa, I took my seat across from her, crossing one leg over the other and resting my hands gently in my lap. She sat down slowly, still glancing around, still looking impressed.
“This is a beautiful home,” she said. “Absolutely stunning.”
“Thank you,” I replied with a faint smile. “It’s peaceful here. I imagine peace is something you value as well.”
Her eyes flickered. “Yes… I do.”
The maid returned with a tray, setting down a glass of wine in front of her and a cup of tea for me. I didn’t drink yet. I waited. I watched her take a sip first.
For a while, the conversation remained polite with empty words about art, travel, and the weather. It was almost easy to forget why she was here, but I hadn’t invited her for small talk. When the silence stretched long enough, I finally spoke again.
“I believe you have something for me,” I said, giving her a warm smile.
She blinked, pretending not to understand, then quickly pulled her phone from her purse. “Yes, yes, I do.”
Silky and I had been speaking for a week. When I showed up at her home, she was very surprised to know who I was. I told her I was looking for her daughter, and it wasn’t up for debate. I didn’t raise my voice or waste words. I simply told her what I needed from her—When Kashmere called, I wanted to know.
To make it easier, I offered her a million dollars. I didn’t offer it out of generosity but because I knew money would make her move faster. She agreed without hesitation.
A week later, she was sitting in my home, pretending she hadn’t just sold her own child. The recording was on her phone, and I could already tell by the look on her face that she’d been listening to it over and over. She was proud of what she’d done, but fear lingered underneath.
Finally, she opened her phone. The moment she pressed play, Kashmere’s voice filled the room. She sounded young and soft, almost fragile. She talked about her pregnancy, about her new home in Halo Key, and about wanting her mother to visit.
I sat quietly and listened until the recording ended.
“She trusts you very much,” I said.
Silky looked uncomfortable. “She’s my daughter.”
Her voice trembled slightly. “For a moment, I didn’t think she’d ever call.”
“Yes,” I said, “and yet you gave her away.”
Her eyes shifted. “You said you’d pay me a million dollars. I did what you asked.”
I nodded once. “I did say that.”
She exhaled in relief, like it was over.
“But I’ve decided not to,” I said simply.
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“You sold your daughter,” I said. “You turned on your own blood for a price, and now you know what it feels like to be lied to.”
What struck me most wasn’t what she did, but how easily she did it. To sell your own child for a moment of comfort, and for money that will burn through your fingers before the guilt ever fades, that kind of weakness disgusted me. I thought about my son and my grandson, about the times I’d looked at Pressure and known that I would die before I ever let harm touch him. I’ve built empires, destroyed reputations, and silenced nations in his name. I would burn the world to ash if it meant keeping him safe.
And then there was Silky, sitting in front of me, smiling as she handed over her only daughter’s future. A pregnant daughter at that. A mother should feel something when her child calls her with hope in her voice, and when she says she’s carrying life inside her. A mother should feel warmth. Silky felt opportunity.
