NTR: Mommy Will Help You! Chapter 325 325: Mia, Why Are You Acting Like This Again?

Within the opulent confines of Ashford Mansion, specifically in Oliver's chamber, Mia sat amidst the silken sheets, a flute of champagne cradled in her hand. Her gaze, unfocused and distant, betrayed a profound melancholy. Her usually neat hair was disheveled, and dark circles shadowed her eyes, clear indicators of prolonged sleeplessness. The weight of relentless troubles pressed down on her, a persistent headache that clouded her thoughts.

Even as the afternoon sun slanted through the windows, she remained in bed, an anchor of her own despair. The room's silence was broken by the gentle opening of the door, admitting Adam, his brow furrowed with concern.

Adam approached Mia, his voice laced with gentle admonishment. "Mia, don't succumb to this again. It isn't beneficial for you. You must uplift your spirits. Oliver is no longer a child; he will manage."

"What are you implying? Naturally, I am aware he will be fine," Mia responded, her voice a mere whisper, thick with worry. "It's simply that I am unaware of his whereabouts or his current condition, you comprehend? My heart aches with worry. Three months have elapsed; how much longer must we endure this wait?"

Adam took a seat beside her on the bed, his hand resting on her shoulder in a gesture of comfort. "I acknowledge the immense difficulty you are experiencing and the depth of your anxiety, but you cannot permit this fixation to consume you. It benefits no one. Moreover, Oliver himself would not wish to see you in such a state."

"But Adam, what if misfortune befalls him? What if he is injured or in peril? I could not bear the burden of guilt if such a tragedy were to occur," Mia lamented, clutching Adam's shirt with a desperate grip.

Images of terrible fates that might have befallen her beloved son welled up, threatening tears once more. She yearned to know the location her father had dispatched him to and the reasons for his secrecy. Above all, her deepest desire was for her son's safe return.

Yet, every avenue pursued to uncover the truth led to a frustrating dead end. Each investigative effort only deepened the mystery, leaving her adrift without an answer.

Consequently, Mia increasingly found solace in melancholic reflection within Oliver's room, surrounded by his possessions. This proximity, however virtual, offered a semblance of connection, allowing her to sustain the illusion of his presence.

Adam drew the despondent mother into his embrace, his hand rhythmically patting her back. "Hush now, cease overthinking, my dear. Your father would never send our son to a place of danger. His affection for Oliver surpasses all others. Believe me, Oliver is well. I am certain of it. You will see him again soon. Therefore, let go of your worries."

These words of reassurance caused Mia to lift her head, her tear-filled, red eyes meeting Adam's. She nodded slowly, a fragile agreement forming on her lips. "Y-yes, you are correct. I am confident he is safe."

"That's the spirit. Now, put these thoughts aside and allow yourself some rest, alright?" Adam offered a gentle smile, planting a kiss upon her forehead. He rose, preparing to depart, when a distinct knock echoed from the door.

"Madam, are you within? This matter is of great importance," a servant's voice announced from the other side.

Adam opened the door to find a young, bespectacled servant standing there. "What is it?" he inquired.

"Mr. Adam, sir, Young Master Oliver has returned! He has just arrived and is presently ascending into the mansion!"

The announcement sent a jolt through Mia's heart. She sprang from the bed with feline agility and rushed towards the door, unceremoniously shoving Adam aside in her haste before darting past the servant.

Down the corridors she flew, a whirlwind of maternal urgency, oblivious to the startled staff and security personnel. In her frantic rush, the necessity of clothing had entirely escaped her consideration.

Yet, this oversight registered barely at all; her sole focus was the imminent reunion with her cherished son, Oliver.

Adam, recovering from his surprise, swiftly re-entered the room to retrieve a bathrobe, hot on the heels of his son's mother. "Mia, wait! Compose yourself, at the very least, put on some attire, damn it!"

Meanwhile, Mia hurtled down the grand staircase, two steps at a time with a fervor bordering on madness, making for the mansion's main entrance. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her body protesting the extreme pace. Though her legs quivered and a wave of lightheadedness washed over her, the overwhelming surge of emotion and the yearning to see her son propelled her onward.

Upon reaching her destination, Mia observed the imposing wooden double doors of the mansion swung wide open, revealing a meticulously lined formation of servants standing at attention.