###Chapter 19
He looked at me with hopeful eyes.
“Sweetheart, why don’t you come in for a bit? Warm up with a cup of tea, keep an old man company. Just for a while. What do you say?”
The words caught in my throat. That kind of loneliness, carved so deep into his wrinkled face-l couldn’t say no.
“If it’s not too much trouble,” I said softly.
The living room was gilded in gold and velvet, a quiet kind of opulence. The staff bustled warmly setting down a silver tray of tea and delicate pastries. The old man sank into a wide velvet armchair and asked me about myself.
When I mentioned I’d just moved into town and was renting a little apartment near the city center, he waved a hand dismissively.
“A flat? That’s no place to live. Just move in here! This house is full of empty rooms. Stay a: long as you like-not a dime to worry about.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, touched by the unexpected kindness.
“Thank you, sir. That’s very generous. But I really do love my flat-it’s close to my new studic makes commuting easy.”
“Studio?” he perked up, eyes brightening. “You’re just as stubborn as my grandson. Hearing you talk-it reminds me of him all over again.”
The house felt huge. Too quiet. Only the soft padding of the staff’s footsteps filled the air.
Something softened inside me.
“But if you don’t mind,” I offered gently, “I’d love to visit now and then. And you’re alway: welcome at my studio too.”
His tired eyes lit up instantly.
“Deal. It’s a promise!”
“And you know,” he added with a conspiratorial grin, “that hopeless grandson of mine is finall coming home in a couple days. You must stay for dinner.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude on a family dinner…” I hesitated.
“It’s just a casual meal. More the merrier, right? Or are you turning your nose up at this old coot’s hospitality?” he teased.
I laughed, shaking my head.
“Not at all, sir! I’d be honored.”
***
Two days later, the sky was painted in streaks of scarlet and gold as I stepped once more through the grand gates, gift in hand.
But just as I reached the entrance, I froze.
Through the tall glass of the foyer’s French doors, I saw two silhouettes framed in sunset.
The old man stood smiling, cane in hand.
Beside him-tall, broad-shouldered, in a crisp white shirt-stood a man gently helping him stay steady.
Even in profile, the shape of his face was unmistakable.
Victor.
My stomach turned. The kind old man… was Victor’s grandfather?
The same Victor who quietly controlled half the city’s corporate chessboard?
He turned, just then, catching sight of me.
His eyes widened, just as surprised as mine.
Then, with a soft laugh, he let go of his grandfather and walked toward me.
“So you’re the guest he wouldn’t stop talking about,” Victor said, slipping back into that effortles: charm. “Come in, Miss Ward.”
As we entered, his grandfather looked between us, the realization dawning.
“You little brat! You know a lovely girl like her and never told me?”
He huffed in mock outrage, but his eyes twinkled with delight.
He waved me toward the couch, then turned dramatically. “I’m going to bake a cake for you two myself. You sit tight.”
“I can help-” I offered, but he wagged a finger.
“Young people should be chatting. Leave the kitchen to us old-timers.”
I caught the wink he threw Victor’s way. Couldn’t help the smile tugging at my lips.
Victor just shrugged, a little helplessly.
He told me he’d already secured 42% of the Marks Corp.’s shares-just one last board membe was holding out: someone named Warren.
Well, good thing that I’d met him once and we got along well.
But helping Victor? Getting involved in this quiet war for power?
I didn’t say anything. Not yet.
Before I could respond, dinner was ready. Three seats, an entire table covered in food.
The butler leaned in and whispered that every dish was Victor’s favorite.
It showed-how much his grandfather adored him. The affection, the quiet pride.
Even with everything Victor carried-pain, revenge, control-he still had someone who truly loved him.
I felt a twinge of envy.
Later that night, while Victor sat in the garden with his grandfather, pointing out constellations, his phone rang. He excused himself and stepped away into a quiet corner.
I followed a minute later, carrying a small plate of dessert I’d put together-sweet tartlets and fresh cream. I didn’t notice who was on the line and called loudly, “Victor, dessert’s ready. Come
eat before it melts!”
But from the other end of the line, a voice I hadn’t heard in weeks cut through the air like a whip.
“Anne?! Is that you? You’re there? At Victor’s place?!”
It was Colin.
Victor didn’t say a word, but I saw his jaw tighten.
“Victor, what the hell are you two doing?! She betrayed me-she slept with you, didn’t she?! That cheating bitch!”
The last words slammed into the air.
“Cheating bitch.”
The same phrase Piper once threw at me. The same bitter venom.
Suddenly, it was all back. The fire, the humiliation, the ache in my ribs from gasping too hard through the tears.
Rage surged up my throat.
