Madelyn felt trapped and believed that accepting the situation would protect her loved ones.
After she told Zach how she felt, she expected him to be mad. But he just smiled, pulled her closer, and
gently played with her wavy hair. “So, how do you see us?”
Hesitantly, she lowered her eyes. “I wish we could just be brother and sister,” she said.
Zach chuckled, a wicked look in his eyes. “Since when do siblings share a bed?” His gaze was icy and
there was something unsettling about it, like a wild animal trapped behind bars.” You’ll see things my
way eventually. And one day, we’ll watch our child grow up together.”
“Dal isn’t our child. It was all make-believe,” Madelyn said. “If you want a child, you and Yvonne should
have one. That would be your true child.” She felt her life was confusing, but she thought Zach seemed
even more lost. “I know this might upset you, but it’s the truth.” “You’ve become pretty good with words,
haven’t you?” Zach teased, pinching her cheek lightly before giving her a quick kiss. He wished they
could start fresh.
Madelyn winced when Zach touched a sore spot. Noticing her pain, he softened his touch.
The horizon’s gentle glow highlighted Zach and Madelyn. From a distance, their bond was
unmistakably profound.
As evening brought light rain and the sound of distant thunder, the once-grand Arnold residence
showed its age, but still looked impressive. A line of black sedans followed a Rolls- Royce into the
courtyard. A bodyguard with a big umbrella opened a car door, and Zach stepped out, surrounded by
other bodyguards. These men used to work for Hayson and had changed from shady jobs to become
expert guards. Those who misbehaved were sent away.
Raindrops created a soft pitter-patter on the umbrella.
Zach led the way into the grand foyer. Marta, dressed in a black dress, stood quietly by a table, lighting
a row of white candles in memory. Nearby, a closed wooden casket was surrounded by flowers. The
room carried the scent of freshly lit candles, occasionally mixed with the subtle undertone of a floral
fragrance.
“Why couldn’t you wait until Mrs. Arnold Sr. was buried before trying to take over the house?” Marta
asked.
The echoing footsteps on the marble floor added to the room’s tension. “You still have two hours,” Zach
replied with a shrug. He sat back in a comfortable chair, appearing relaxed, thinking, ‘After tonight, the
Arnold residence will be history.’
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