Chapter 4 - The Grand Return
Sunday night, 8:15 PM.
The heavy headlights of a luxury SUV illuminated the driveway. Candice’s laugh rang out across the quiet lawn as she pulled into the garage, accompanied by her mother, Evelyn, her sister, Rita, and her fourteen-year-old nephew, Wyatt.
They were loaded with shopping bags from high-end boutiques in Miami.
"Wyatt, leave the heavy bags by the door! Lucas will bring them up!" Candice yelled arrogantly as she unlocked the side door into the kitchen. "Lucas! Get down here right now and unload the car!"
The lights in the kitchen flashed on.
Candice stopped dead in her tracks.
Sitting at the head of the dining table, bathed in the sharp overhead light, was Gabriel. Next to him sat Lucas, dressed in a clean, brand-new navy sweatshirt, eating a bowl of hot soup.
The room went dead silent.
Candice’s mother, Evelyn, clutched her designer purse, while Wyatt shuffled awkwardly behind his mother, Rita.
"Gabriel?" Candice gasped, her voice instantly shifting into a sugary, dramatic pitch. "Oh my goodness, darling! You scared us! What are you doing home? You said your delivery in Phoenix was going to keep you away until Wednesday!"
Gabriel didn't stand up. He slowly took a sip from his mug, his eyes locking onto hers with terrifying stillness.
"The shipment was canceled," Gabriel said evenly. "So I came home early."
Candice recovered quickly, plastering a wide, fake smile across her face. "Well, isn't that a wonderful surprise! We missed you so much! We just got back from a terrible, stressful trip trying to help my mother..."
"Where did you stay in Miami, Candice?" Gabriel interrupted.
Candice blinked. "Oh, just a tiny little bed-and-breakfast..."
Gabriel pulled a stack of printed bank statements from his pocket and tossed them onto the center of the table.
"The Ritz-Carlton," Gabriel said calmly. "$1,400 a night. Paid for with my business card. The one reserved for fuel and rig maintenance."
May you like
Candice’s smile faltered, her eyes darting nervously toward her sister. "Gabriel, sweetheart... there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for that..."
"I’m sure there is," Gabriel replied smoothly, standing up. He towered over her, his broad shoulders casting a long shadow across the polished floor. "Just like I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for why my son was scrubbing your family’s dirty underwear in cold water while you were drinking champagne on the beach."
