Chapter 3 - The Homecoming
The silver Mercedes pulled up the grand circular driveway at exactly 10:00 a.m. on Friday. I stepped out of the back seat, wearing a tailored charcoal suit, my expression a flawless mask of exhausting corporate weariness.
The front doors of the mansion flew open, and Patricia came gliding down the marble steps, wearing a pristine white silk dress, her blonde hair catching the morning sun. She looked like a vision of domestic perfection.
"Arthur, darling!" she cried, throwing her arms around my neck and pressing her lips to mine. I forced myself to return the kiss, suppressing the primal urge to choke the truth out of her right there on the lawn. "You're home early! How was the European logistics summit?"
"Exhausting, but highly profitable," I said, forcing a warm smile as I wrapped an arm around her waist, guiding her back into the foyer. "I missed you terribly."
"Oh, we missed you too," she said smoothly, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. "Though, I must admit, it was quite a difficult week here. Rosa has been increasingly hostile. I caught her neglecting the girls' studies yesterday, and when I corrected her, she practically threw a tantrum. Arthur, for the safety of the children, we really must terminate her contract before the wedding."
"Is that so?" I asked, raising an eyebrow as we walked into the living room.
My daughters were sitting on the sofa, their posture stiff, their little hands gripped tightly together. The moment they saw me, a flash of pure, unfiltered longing crossed their faces, but they didn't run to me. They looked at Patricia first, waiting for permission. It was a subtle, heartbreaking dynamic that I had been blind to for months.
"Martina, Daniela," I said, my voice softening as I stepped away from Patricia and knelt in front of the sofa. "Come here."
They broke. They threw themselves into my arms, burying their faces into my suit jacket, their tiny bodies trembling. I held them so tightly my chest ached, burying my face in their hair, silently vowing that no one would ever make them feel small again.
Over their shoulders, I saw Patricia watching us, a small, satisfied smirk playing on her lips. She thought she had broken them completely. She thought she owned this house.
"Go with Rosa to the garden for a little while, girls," I whispered, kissing their foreheads. "Daddy needs to speak with Patricia."
May you like
The moment the doors closed behind the girls and Rosa, Patricia walked over to the wet bar, pouring two glasses of scotch. "I'm glad you're home, Arthur. We need to finalize the guest list for the charity gala tomorrow night. It’s the perfect venue to announce our official wedding date to the high society circles."
"You're entirely right, Patricia," I said, taking the glass from her hand, my smile turning razor-sharp. "Tomorrow night is going to be a celebration none of our guests will ever forget."
