Dating The Richest Mamas Boy Ever

I was about five seconds away from dumping my sad, discounted Caesar salad over my co-workers head.

Madison had been running her mouth for ten minutes, and frankly, Id had enough. She was currently trashing the intern shed just started dating, calling him a total mamas boy, andget thistrying to pawn him off on me.

"Im serious, Cass," she said, picking at her manicure. "He has to ask his mother for everything. He literally FaceTimed her to ask what he should order for dinner on our first date. The internet says guys like that are a death trap. If you marry into a family like that, youre just signing up to be a free live-in maid for some overbearing old lady."

Then came the kicker. She smirked at me, her eyes glinting with a mean sort of pity. "Actually, since you grew up in that group home, you never really had the whole 'motherly love' experience, right? Youd probably love catering to a demanding old woman. Itd be like a hobby for you."

I felt the blood rush to my face. My grip tightened on the plastic container. But just as I was about to let the ranch dressing fly, a line of glowing text flickered across my vision.

[CASS, GIRL, DON'T DO IT! DON'T BLOW THIS! That 'mamas boy' is the only son of the richest woman in the city. Shes insanely generous, fiercely protective, and worth billions!]

Before I could blink, another one scrolled past: [The 'old lady' is only 'demanding' because she insists on buying her daughter-in-law penthouses and custom Porsches. She treats her sons partners like her own flesh and blood!]

And a third: [Relax, this mean girl is just a stepping stone. Once the billionaire mom finds out her son switched girls, shes going to go all-in on Cass. We love a 'Rich Mother-in-Law' trope!]

I froze. The salad stayed in the bowl. Slowly, I lowered it and pushed it toward Madison with a tight, serene smile.

"You know what, Madison? Youre right. Ive always wanted to be part of a family. Send me his contact info."

It wasn't about the money. Not really. It was just that, more than anything in the world, I really, really wanted a mom.

01

To break the ice after he accepted my request, I scrolled through Adrians social media.

His latest post was from three minutes ago. The location tag was a 24-hour emergency vet. It was a photo of a silver British Shorthair in an oxygen tank, tangled in tubes and wires.

Emergency! Snowy has had a sudden reaction and needs an immediate blood transfusion. Type A. The blood bank is empty. If anyone has a healthy cat nearby, please help. Ill do anything.

A line of text drifted past my eyes:

[The Male Lead refuses to use blood from 'blood farms.' Hes such a good guy. How could the other girl give him up?!]

Blood farms. The thought made my stomach turn. I looked down at my big, goofy orange tabby, Marmalade, who was currently face-deep in a tin of premium tuna. I snapped a photo and sent it to Adrian.

My cat is twelve pounds and healthy as a horse. Im ten minutes away. Were coming.

When I arrived at the clinic, Adrian was slumped on a plastic bench, head in his hands. He looked like he was vibrating with tension. At the sound of my footsteps, he looked up.

His eyes were bloodshot, his face pale. His high-end suit was rumpled, his tie loosened as if hed been clawing at his throat.

Youre the one? he asked, his voice a gravelly wreck.

I handed him the carrier. Save the cat first.

The next thirty minutes were a blur of needles, tests, and the rhythmic hum of the oxygen machine. I sat a few feet away from him. He kept glancing at the swinging doors of the surgery suite, his knuckles white as he gripped his knees.

A nurse finally stepped out. The cross-match is a success. Type A. Were starting the transfusion now.

Adrian stood up so fast his knees slammed into the bench with a sickening thud. He didn't even flinch. He strode over to me, fumbling with his phone.

Thank you. Seriously, thank you. Let me venmo you ten thousand for the troublemore if you need it. For the 'nutritional recovery' of your cat.

His hands were shaking so hard he kept mistyping. I reached out and gently pushed his phone down.

No.

This is a life-saving favor, he insisted. I have to pay you.

I pulled Marmalade into my lap, stroking his thick orange fur. Im doing this for good karma for my cat. If I take your money, it taints the kindness. Marmalade is happy to help a friend.

Adrian went still, staring at me as if I were a puzzle he couldnt solve.

The "Surgery in Progress" light flickered off. The vet walked out, pulling off his mask. Hes out of the woods. Well keep him overnight for observation, but hes going to be fine.

Adrian let out a breath that sounded like a sob. He leaned against the wall, the tension finally draining out of his shoulders.

I owe you everything, he said, his gaze softening as it landed on me. Wait... why did you add me on WeChat earlier today?

My phone screen lit up. It was Madison. A string of toxic messages:

Well? Did he ask his mommy where to take you for coffee yet?

Only a weirdo like you could handle a freak like that.

I didnt have a privacy screen. Adrians eyes tracked the words. I didn't try to hide it. Ive never seen the point in lying when the truth is right there.

Madison recommended you to me, I said.

She told me you were a 'mamas boy.' Said you couldn't breathe without her permission and that whoever married you would just be a glorified servant.

Adrians face turned to stone. The air in the hallway turned cold.

The glowing text flared up:

[CANNON FODDER IS SO STUPID! You cant just say that to his face! Youve ruined it!]

[RIP Cass. Her IQ is literally zero. Who tells a guy he's a mama's boy on the first meeting?!]

My heart skipped a beat as I watched his expression harden. Just take it as a joke, I added quickly, trying to smooth the edges.

Adrian looked down, silent. The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating.

Then, he let out a short, self-deprecating laugh. He pulled out his phone, found Madisons contact, and hit Block and Delete without a second thought.

Shes half-right, he said, looking me straight in the eye. I do share everything with my mother. I value her opinion more than anyone's. But my mother is not the kind of woman who wants a servant. She wants a daughter.

He took a step closer, invading my personal space in a way that felt strangely grounding.

Youre honest. And youre kind, he said, his voice sincere. Can I officially ask you out? For real this time?

I stood there, my brain stalling.

Im not doing this to spite her, he added. Im doing this because I think youre incredible.

The text in the air went haywire:

[Wait, this isn't the script! Hes supposed to walk away in a huff!]

[Why is he into her?! This wasn't in the spoilers!]

I watched the chaos of the comments and then looked at Adrian. Rich, kind, loves his cat, and has a billionaire mother who supposedly wants to spoil her son's girlfriend?

I bit back a smile and looked into his hopeful eyes.

Id like that, I said.

02

Adrians way of courting me was clumsy but relentless.

Every morning at 7:00 AM, a hot oat milk latte and a fresh almond croissant appeared at the office front desk for me. At noon, a thermal bag arrived at my cubicle containing a three-course mealperfectly balanced, with fruit pre-sliced. At 6:00 PM, his car was idling at the curb, rain or shine.

Madison watched this for a week, her face turning a sour shade of green. Is he for real? All this for a mamas boy?

I ignored her and took a sip of the slow-simmered beef stew Adrian had sent. It was still the perfect temperature.

Adrians "mamas boy" traits were exactly as advertised.

Hed FaceTime me to ask what I wanted for lunch. Hed FaceTime me to decide which movie we should see. He even held up his phone in a bakery once so his mom could help him choose which flavor of cake Id like best.

One afternoon, while we were at a high-end mall, he pulled out his phone again. I leaned into the frame and waved. Hi, Mrs. Norton.

The woman on the screen froze, then her face broke into a massive, radiant smile. Oh! Is this Cassidy? Adrian hasnt stopped talking about you! Youre even prettier than he said!

She looked to be in her early fifties, elegant but with warm crinkles around her eyes. Her smile wasn't the polite, icy grin of a socialiteit was genuine. It reached her eyes.

Sweet girl, have you eaten? Its getting chilly out, make sure youre wearing enough layers, okay?

Sweet girl.

My hand tightened on the phone. No one had ever called me that. Not with that tone.

After the call ended, Adrian noticed my eyes were rimmed with red. Whats wrong? he panicked, hovering over me. Did she say something? She can be a bit much, I know, Ill talk to her

No, I whispered, blinking hard. Its just... I grew up in the system. I don't have parents. I dont even know what they looked like.

The text in the air exploded.

[An orphan and a billionaire? The mom is going to throw a check at her face and tell her to get lost.]

[Old money families hate 'nobodies.' Just wait for the rejection.]

[There's no way a CEO mother accepts a girl with no background.]

Adrian didn't say a word. We were standing in the middle of a crowded atrium, surrounded by the noise of shoppers and mall music. He reached out and gently brushed a stray tear from my cheek.

The fact that you grew up to be who you are, all on your own... that makes you more impressive than anyone I know.

That weekend, he told me he was taking me home for dinner.

As the car turned into a long, tree-lined driveway in a gated community, I knew I was in over my head. The lawn was manicured to perfection, leading up to a sprawling limestone estate with a fountain out front.

This is... your house?

Yeah.

I looked down at the $20 fruit basket in my lap. Id bought it at the local grocery store. It felt pathetic. My palms started to sweat.

When the car stopped, I couldn't move. Adrian came around to open my door, but I gripped the basket like a life raft. Adrian, this gift is... its embarrassing. I should have gotten something else.

My mom doesn't care about that stuff.

Before he could finish, the massive front doors swung open. A woman in a stunning silk wrap dress and heels came flying out. I recognized the smile from the FaceTime call.

She bypassed her own son entirely and pulled me into a suffocatingly warm hug.

My darling! Youre finally here!

Mom, dont scare her Adrian started.

Violet Norton didn't even look at him. Hush, you.

She pulled back, looking me up and down with a frown. Youre too thin. Are you eating enough?

Then, she reached into her pocket, pulled out a set of keys, and pressed them into my hand.

Theres a penthouse downtown. Three thousand square feet, fully furnished, top-of-the-line everything. Its yours. Just a little 'welcome to the family' gift. Tell me if you need anything else.

I turned into a statue. Mrs. Norton, I... I cant. This is too much

Call me Mom, she said, her expression turning stern. 'Mrs. Norton' is for strangers. If you don't take them, it means you don't think Im doing a good job as a mother.

The glowing text went silent.

[...]

[I have nothing to say.]

[Wait, so the mother-in-law is actually a saint? This isn't a trap?]

Standing at the door of a mansion, holding a cheap fruit basket and the keys to a multi-million dollar condo, my nose crinkled and the tears started falling. I looked a mess.

Violet pulled me back into her arms, patting my back as if I were a wounded bird. Oh, honey, don't cry. Youre home now.

Twenty-three years. It took twenty-three years for someone to say that to me.

I gripped the keys and managed a shaky, broken whisper. Thanks... Mom.

I was never letting this family go.

03

Monday morning, Adrians car was parked in front of my office like clockwork. He hopped out to open my door and swapped my regular coffee for a thermos of herbal tea his mother had insisted on brewing for me.

Madison came charging out of the building, intercepting us. Adrian! Can we talk? I was just being immature before

Adrian didn't even give her a glance. He ushered me toward the entrance, leaving Madison standing on the sidewalk, her face flushing a deep, humiliated red.

Suddenly, a line of gold text flashed: [DON'T GET TOO COZY! The 'Childhood Friend' returns today! Shes fragile, shes sickly, and shes here to wreck the relationship!]

I stumbled slightly. A childhood friend?

But the reality was nothing like the comments predicted.

Her name was Gia. Shed been abroad for years receiving treatment for a chronic condition. She was soft-spoken and sweet. When we met, she grabbed my arm excitedly. Adrian said you were special. Ive been dying to meet the girl who finally tamed him!

Adrian stood by, looking completely relaxed. Gias like a sister to me. Shes had a rough time with her health, so I hope you guys can be friends.

There was no drama. No "it should have been me" glares. Gia even started stopping by my office for lunch. We talked about skincare and gossip; she brought me snacks from Europe, and I showed her the best local hole-in-the-wall spots.

The comments were quiet for a few days.

But Madison wasn't.

I didn't realize shed seen me enter my passcode. I didn't realize how long shed been watching.

That afternoon, I had a meeting on the 17th floor and left my phone at my desk. When I came back forty minutes later, my screen was lit up. It was open to my chat with Gia.

The last message sent from my account read: Gia, I found this amazing hidden cafe on the B3 level of the building. Come meet me!

Gia had replied with a heart emoji: On my way!

B3. The entire building knew the B3 basement had been abandoned for two years. The lights were broken, and there was zero cell service.

My heart plummeted. I reached for my phone to call her, to tell her it wasn't me

A massive red block of text slammed into my vision:

[YES! THE SCHEME IS SET! The Mean Girl dropped the fire shutters! The Childhood Friend has severe claustrophobia and asthma! Shes a goner, and Cass is the prime suspect!]

The blood drained from my face. I didn't even grab my bag. I sprinted for the stairs, skipping steps, my heart hammering against my ribs.

The elevator was too slow. I flew down the concrete stairwell from the 12th floor. My legs felt like jelly, and I slammed my knee into a railing, but I didn't stop.

Gia has asthma.

Closed space. No signal. Alone.

She could die.

When I hit B3, the lights were out. The only glow came from a flickering green emergency sign. The heavy iron fire shutters had been triggered, sealing the hallway shut.

From behind the metal door, I heard it. A faint, wet wheeze.

Gia! I screamed, pounding on the metal. Gia, can you hear me?!

No answer. Only the sound of someone struggling for air.

I lunged for the nearby fire station and smashed the glass with my bare hand. Shards sliced into my palm, blood slicking my wrist, but I didn't feel it. I grabbed the heavy fire extinguisher and swung it like a sledgehammer at the lock of the shutter.

Every strike sent a jar of pain up my arm. My grip was slipping because of the blood, so I wiped my hand on my shirt and swung again.

The seventh hit, the lock groaned.

The eleventh hit, it snapped.

I threw the extinguisher aside and shoved the shutters up with everything I had.

Gia was collapsed on the concrete, her lips tinged blue, her chest barely moving.

I dropped to my knees, ignored the searing pain in my palms, and started CPR while fumbling for my phone to call 911.

B3 basement... asthma attack... shes not breathing... hurry!

Compressions. Breaths. Compressions.

I don't know how long I did it. My arms went numb. Finally, Gia let out a ragged, whistling gasp. She was breathing.

The paramedics arrived minutes later. And so did Adrian.

He looked at Gia on the stretcher, his face a mask of horror. What happened?!

I opened my mouth to explain, but a sharp voice cut through the air.

It was her!

Madison pushed through the crowd, pointing a trembling finger at me. I saw her! I saw the messages on her phone luring Gia down here! She was jealous of how close Gia and Adrian were. She tried to kill her!

She turned to Adrian, tears streaming down her face. Adrian, I tried to tell you. Someone from her background... shes not as innocent as she looks!

The whispers started immediately.

She tried to kill someone for a paycheck?

Typical orphan behavior. No morals.

Adrian took my phone. He scrolled through the messages, his hand shaking.

Did you send this? he asked, his voice low and vibrating with hurt.

No, I said, looking him in the eye.

Then how do you explain this?

Madison sobbed. Look at her hands! Theyre covered in blood! She probably locked the door herself and then played the hero when she realized shed get caught!

Adrian closed his eyes.

He handed the phone back to me without another word and climbed into the ambulance with Gia. As the doors slammed shut, he didn't look back.

I stood in the dim light of the basement, my hands dripping red.

The comments flooded back:

[The perfect frame-up! Cass is done for!]

[She saved the girl but lost the guy. Talk about a backfire.]

I looked down at my bleeding palms. The siren faded into the distance.