Chapter 9 - THE VANCE ESTATE
The town car swept through towering wrought-iron gates that opened automatically, gliding up a long, tree-lined driveway flanked by manicured gardens and sparkling fountains.
At the end of the drive sat a magnificent, historic stone manor that looked more like a European palace than a modern suburban home.
As the car came to a smooth halt, double oak doors swung open, and a line of estate staff—led by a distinguished head butler named Mr. Henderson—stood waiting on the stone steps.
When Shiomara stepped out of the vehicle, Henderson bowed slightly.
“Welcome to the Vance estate, Mrs. Reyes,” Henderson said formally, his voice warm and respectful. “Your permanent private quarters in the garden wing have been fully prepared according to Miss Eleanor’s instructions.”
Shiomara blinked in astonishment. “Permanent quarters?”
“Of course,” Julian said, walking up beside her and resting a friendly hand on her shoulder. “You didn't think we were going to let you live alone across town, did you? You’re part of this family now, Shiomara. Whether you like it or not, you’re stuck with us.”
That evening, a grand family dinner was prepared in the formal dining room—a room that hadn't seen a celebratory gathering in decades.
There were no stiff corporate protocols or rigid business talk. Instead, the table was filled with laughter, shared stories of survival, and vivid memories of the old days when the three siblings were just frightened kids trying to figure out how to survive another night in a cold city.
May you like
For the first time in her life, Shiomara sat at a table where she wasn't serving the food, worrying about the bill, or wondering if tomorrow would bring disaster.
She sat as an honored guest. More than that—she sat as a mother figure to three powerful executives who still remembered the taste of a shared bowl of rice under a dark bridge.
