Chapter 44:
Those words alone were enough to turn Percy from defiant to instantly meek.
“Kendrick, I am sorry. I made a mistake.”
Kendrick’s tone turned colder than before. “Serenity Manor was purchased for my granddaughter’s comfort during vacations. Paola, you’ve had the run of this place for more than ten years — tell me, have I ever treated you unfairly?” Whatever warmth he once felt toward her had vanished, his gaze steady and imposing.
White as a sheet, Paola shook her head in panic. “Never, I swear. You and my cousins must have misunderstood me.”
Laurel’s face was just as tense. Pulling her children closer, she forced a smile in Rylie’s direction. “I should have handled this better. Rylie is welcome to any room she wants — none of us will stand in her way.”
Felix kept his voice even. “If that’s settled, let’s stop with the comments that cause confusion. Deandre, why don’t you show Rylie around? Once the room’s ready, she can move in.”
With that, Deandre slipped an arm around Rylie’s shoulders, his grin playful and conspiratorial. “Let’s check out the vineyard. I’ll let you pick the best grapes.”
As she glanced at his hand, Rylie noticed an old scar—something oddly familiar that she couldn’t quite place.
Still deep in thought, she allowed Deandre to lead her toward the rows of vines. Once they were gone, Kendrick declared, “Tonight marks my first dinner with Rylie. Have the kitchen prepare a variety of dishes so we can find out what she likes.”
Laurel quickly agreed. “I’ll see to it. Percy, help your sister gather her things so the staff can tidy up her room for Rylie.”
Frustration followed Paola back to her quarters. Rushing into Laurel’s arms, she let her complaints spill out. “Why does all their attention shift to Rylie the moment she comes home, no matter how hard I try?”
Laurel’s hand landed softly on Paola’s shoulder, her voice soothing but with an unmistakable edge. “You can point the finger at your father — being a branch of the Owen family means we’re always left on the sidelines. He’s never had much talent, and it’s held us back. Still, Paola, I’ve raised you to the highest standards, not like Rylie, who grew up in a remote village. Your cousins are only caught up in the novelty of her return. When it comes to important occasions, they’ll see you’re the one who truly belongs as an Owen.”
She lifted Paola’s chin, gently dabbing at her tear-stained cheeks, her tone suddenly grave. “All you need to do is outshine Rylie in everything. Are you ready for that?”
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A thrill of determination shot through Paola as she nodded. “I won’t let you down.”
Meanwhile, among sun-dappled vines, Deandre plucked two heavy clusters of grapes, offering them to Rylie. “These are at their sweetest right now. Give them a try.”
Popping a grape in her mouth, Rylie shifted the conversation, asking in a casual tone, “Deandre, where did you get that scar on your hand?”
A flash of pride lit up his smile under her gaze. “Oh, that? It’s nothing much. Got into a scuffle at a casino in Aclogow — a machete caught me when a fight broke out.”
Her memory served her well. Just a year earlier, traveling with the Kirk family, she’d stumbled upon that very brawl at an Aclogow casino, a clash involving the Costa Syndicate. She had seen Deandre defend a stranger, earning that very scar.
Lately, word had spread in the underworld. Rumors hinted that Alexis Costa, the notorious syndicate leader, was stepping down, but the new heir wasn’t his son — it was an enigmatic figure from Kouhron. Soon after, the dark web blazed with a hundred-million-dollar bounty on this mysterious successor’s head.
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