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Chapter 6 - The Uninvited Guest

The peace didn't last through the weekend.

Saturday afternoon was bright and clear, the autumn sun warming the cobblestone courtyard behind the mansion. I was sitting on the wrought-iron patio bench, watching Elise push Maisie and Rosie in their double stroller while they giggled uncontrollably at a flock of migrating geese overhead.

Suddenly, the heavy iron security gates at the front of the estate buzzed aggressively.

Jenkins appeared from the side entrance, walking briskly across the lawn toward me. "Mr. Caruso, we have an unannounced visitor at the main gate. Refuses to leave."

I frowned, standing up. "Who is it?"

Before Jenkins could answer, the front courtyard archway echoed with the sharp, rhythmic click of expensive heels against stone.

"Honestly, Dominic, your security guards are as dramatic as prison wardens," a cool, aristocratic voice rang out across the lawn.

Eleanor Caruso strode into the courtyard. She was impeccably dressed in a tailored St. John wool suit, her silver hair styled in a flawless French twist, her diamond earrings catching the sunlight. Behind her stood two burly private drivers carrying matching Louis Vuitton luggage.

Elise stopped the stroller immediately, stepping back and watching the scene unfold with quiet vigilance.

I stepped forward, blocking my mother’s path to the patio. "Mother. What are you doing here? You were not invited."

Eleanor stopped, her sharp blue eyes—the exact shade of my own—scanning the courtyard with undisguised disdain before landing on Elise and the twins.

"Is this the circus you’ve been running?" Eleanor asked, her voice dripping with condescension. She didn't bother lowering her voice. "I heard rumors that my granddaughters were being raised by some unqualified local girl while you buried yourself in whiskey and ledgers. I came to take charge."

"You will do no such thing," I said, my voice dropping into a low, dangerous growl. "My daughters are fine. My home is fine. Get off my property."

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Eleanor scoffed, stepping past me as if I were a minor inconvenience. She walked straight toward the stroller, peering down at Maisie and Rosie, who immediately shrank back, sensing the cold, intimidating aura of a stranger.

"Look at them—dressed in cotton instead of cashmere," Eleanor sneered, turning her gaze toward Elise. "And you. Who hired this... help? You look entirely out of your depth, young lady. Pack your things. You’re dismissed."

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