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CHAPTER TEN: A father’s shadow
Last Updated:
2024-12-11 20:59:09
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The figure moved swiftly toward the gate, and Mia’s heart surged with hope. As he stepped closer, his face became unmistakable. It was her father, Fred Williams—tall and broad-shouldered, with neatly trimmed hair and a fitted T-shirt and jeans. He looked well—too well, nothing like the disheveled father she had last seen four years ago.Mia’s heart surged as the figure stepped out of the gate. For a moment, hope filled her chest, a flicker of disbelief in her voice as she whispered, “Daddy?”The man paused near the gate, his expression caught between surprise and discomfort. “Mia? What are you doing here? How did you find me?” His voice lowered, as though he was wary of being overheard. “I thought you stayed in…” He hesitated, “Springwood. Isn’t that where you and your mom stayed?”Mia’s breath hitched. His tone felt cold, distant, not at all the warmth she had hoped for. “You’re right, but I’m here because it’s urgent.”The man glanced uneasily at the guard standing nearby. “Excuse u
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Mia’s hands shook as she dropped the shards of the vase, panic twisting her chest. She knelt beside the unconscious man, her fingers fumbling through his jacket. Who was he? Her breathing quickened as she searched for anything—an ID, a clue—anything that could explain why she was there. Suddenly, she froze. She could hear faint footsteps behind the door. Someone was coming. The sound was sharp, deliberate. Her heart pounded harder with each step. Who could that be? The door burst open, and she jumped, turning toward the noise. It was Zac. Mia’s stomach flipped at the sight of him. He stood in the doorway, tall and commanding, his sharp eyes moving from her to the man on the floor, then back to her. The calmness in his voice sent a chill down her spine. “What’s going on, Mia? What did you do?” Her heart raced. She didn’t even know where she was. The last time she checked, she’d been at least three hours away from home, stuck on a desolate street. How was Zac here?
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Mia woke to the smell of food drifting through the air. For a moment, she lay still, caught between sleep and waking. The bright exterior lights slipped through the thin curtains, casting a quiet glow in her room. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand—just past 5 a.m., the same time she always woke up.Stretching her arms above her head, she slowly sat up. Her eyes wandered to the empty chair by her bed, where she had spent hours last night, going over the questions Zac had told her to prepare. A few answers stuck in her head. Most of them didn’t. It didn’t really matter. She had a few hours left to cram, but the thought of why she was doing this lingered. Why did she care so much about obeying Zac?The answer came quickly: her mom.Mia hadn’t expected to see her mother last night. When she got home, her mom was asleep on the couch, her head resting against the armrest. She must have waited for hours, but Mia couldn’t bring herself to wake her. The soft rise and fall of her mom’s
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Angelo entered the parking lot, his footsteps clinking in shiny shoes. His eyes darted around, his face tense beneath furrowed brows as he muttered, “Where is she?”He scanned the rows of cars, turning to this side and that, his every movement a manifestation of frustration. Just as he turned to leave, a voice checked his steps.“Angelo?”He froze and turned slowly, relief washing over his face when he saw her. “Mia.” He exhaled deeply, the tension melting from his shoulders. “I’ve actually been looking for you.”Mia tilted her head, surprised. “Really?”He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes slightly. “I heard you applied for the position of secretary here.”She paused, pushing a strand of her chestnut-brown wig behind her ear. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” she said softly.“Come on, Mia,” Angelo said, a slight edge of hurt in his voice. “I thought we were friends. Aren’t we?”Mia’s eyes dropped to the floor, her conscience pul
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“Yes, Dad,” she replied, her voice steady but cautious. “It’s my passion. I’ve wanted this for years.” Seth dropped the tablet onto the desk, his temper flaring. “Passion? What about the family business? What about everything I’ve worked for?” “Dad, I told you years ago,” Celine said, her voice rising slightly. “I have no interest in working under the family name.” “But you agreed to the business courses I enrolled you in,” he snapped. “Dad—” “No!” he shouted, cutting her off. “You’re my last chance, Celine!” Seth stood up immediately, pacing the room. “Your sisters have already disappointed me—one playing dress-up with her fashion company, the other running off to teach art to children! Let’s not even start with Angela, who eloped with her boyfriend. But you… You’re the only one who could—” “Could what?” Celine interrupted, her composure cracking. “Give up my dreams to live the life you want for me?” She stood now, her voice rising. “Dad, I’ve told you before. I lov
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Mia stepped into the private dining hall, her steps careful and purposeful. The room was filled with subtle luxury, muted golden lighting bouncing off polished silver accents, complemented by the soft hum of a piano in the corner. Two waitresses stood by discreetly, their postures perfect, as if rehearsed. It was the kind of refined luxury that made her feel like an uninvited guest at a gala. Zac sat at the far end of the room, casually swirling a glass of wine, looking like a king in his domain. He looked up when she walked in, his eyes scanning her as if measuring her value. When Mia stepped closer, he immediately noticed her simple outfit—a satin skirt, blouse, and flat sandals. She was beautiful, as always, but woefully out of place. He smiled, leaning back in his chair as she approached. “Good evening, sir,” Mia said with a polite bow. “Sit,” he said sharply, not bothering to acknowledge her greeting. “Check the menu if you need something specific.” Mia hesitated, her ton
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Mia froze. Did Zac really mean that? Or was he just sleep-talking? For a moment, she let herself believe it was harmless—just a brief moment of comfort. Nothing more. “Okay,” she whispered, allowing herself to sink deeper into his embrace instead of pulling away. And the night passed in silence. ******** The next time Mia opened her eyes, the room was brighter. Not from sunlight—just the soft glow of morning creeping through the curtains. She inhaled sharply, and turned—but Zac wasn’t there. Alone in bed, she sighed, pushing her hair back. She reached for her phone on the nightstand—it was only 6:12 a.m. The sky was still a dull gray, the sun yet to rise. Groggy, she mumbled, “Jeez…” and pushed the duvet off. She was still in the same clothes from the night before. She was about to head to the guest room when a familiar smell made her stop. Something was cooking. Her eyes landed on Zac in the kitchen. He stood by the counter, dressed in a different outfit from last night
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“Good morning, Grandpa.” Mia stood the moment Charles Cornell stepped onto the terrace. His face was bright, as though he’d been up for hours. He was simply dressed in straight pants and a button-down shirt, with his sleeves neatly folded to his elbows. “Oh, Mia, please, sit,” he said, motioning toward the chair beside him. “Come inside, or are you comfortable out here?” “This is fine,” she assured him. “Actually, this is my favorite spot.” Charles sat with a satisfied nod. “How long have you been waiting?” “Not too long,” Mia said lightly. The Chief of Staff, standing nearby, bowed slightly. “She has actually been here for over an hour, sir. She was standing by the gate.” Charles’s expression shifted instantly. “What?” His voice carried a quiet authority. “And they didn’t let her in?” “They were just doing their job,” Mia interjected quickly. “It was an innocent mistake.” Charles exhaled through his mouth. “Who was on duty?” He turned to the Chief of Staff. “How could they
