Celestine accompanied Gideon to the door, her lips curved in a gentle smile. “See you next time.”
“Yeah. See you.”
Without even realizing it, the cold edge in Gideon’s eyes had softened.
He turned and pressed his thumb to the fingerprint lock of his apartment. As soon as the door swung open, four familiar figures tumbled out in a rush.
“Hey, good evening! Uncle Gideon, fancy running into you again!”
Little Cynthia had ended up at the front of the group, and now she found herself nose–to–nose with Gideon, looking a bit startled.
Behind her stood her parents–a striking couple who resembled Cynthia so strongly there was no mistaking the family connection. Both wore wide, mischievous grins.
His sister–in–law, Mamie, carried herself with a cool, elegant grace. Her eyes were captivating, almost catlike in their beauty. But when she spoke, she could send shivers down anyone’s spine.
She put on a dramatic voice, clearly imitating Gideon’s usual stoic tone. “See you–next–time-”
Gideon planted a hand on his hip, half amused, half exasperated. “Finley Prescott, would you mind keeping your wife in/check?”
He bypassed Mamie and turned to his older brother, Finley, who stood just behind her. Finley, always the serious one with his wire–rimmed glasses and measured demeanor, just smirked and echoed with a deep, bubbling voice,
“Next–time–definitely.”
Cynthia clapped a hand over her mouth, giggling.
Old Clifton Prescott–Gideon’s father–grinned from ear to ear. “Ha! I knew there was something going on between you and Celestine! Look at you, already spending time alone in her apartment!”
Gideon just gave them a look, not even bothering to explain.
The four of them trailed after him into the living room, chattering away.
Finley, turning serious again, fixed Gideon with a searching look. “So, tell us–are you really interested in that girl next door? You’ve already drawn your gun for her,
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and even went diving after her?”
He’d gotten the full story back when Gideon had made headlines in Portside City. Finley might officially be the head of the Prescott family, but everyone knew Gideon was the one truly running things behind the scenes. The company Gideon had built on his own rivaled even the family’s business empire, which freed Finley to take Mamie and live overseas for years.
He’d never expected his long–single brother would make such a splash the moment he finally let someone in–faking his own death, nearly sending the entire Prescott Group into chaos. The board had even sent a petition demanding Finley come back and take charge, so here he was, putting on a show for appearances‘ sake.
“She’s the one who saved me in Stonewash Cove all those years ago.” Gideon’s voice was calm, almost detached.
The room fell silent for a moment.
Cynthia, wide–eyed, glanced between the adults and blurted, “Uncle Gideon, what happened at Stonewash Cove?”
Before she could say more, Mamie quickly reached over and clamped a hand over Cynthia’s mouth. “She’s just a kid, Gideon, don’t mind her. She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”
“It’s fine,” he replied, a wry smile twisting his lips. “I’ll always remember.”
Mamie felt her heart skip a beat and shot Finley a desperate look.
Gideon stared at his reflection in the hallway mirror, his expression unreadable, voice flat. “I’ll always remember how she left me on that island to fend for myself. I won’t forget it as long as I live.”
“Gideon, Mom didn’t mean to…” Finley hesitated, then pressed on. “Aren’t you going to visit her? Just once?”
After Gideon was born, their mother had suffered from severe postpartum depression. For years, the family tried to cope, but everything changed the summer they all went on a sailing trip. When it was time to leave, they somehow managed to forget Gideon on that unfamiliar island–giving human traffickers the perfect opportunity. He barely escaped with his life before being brought back to Oceanview City.
From that day on, any lingering hope Gideon had for his mother’s love vanished. The fragile bond he’d tried to maintain was gone, replaced by bitter estrangement.
Gideon’s mouth twisted. “Oh? Is she dead?”
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Finley’s expression darkened. “Gideon!”
“If she dies, make sure to invite me to the funeral.” Gideon straightened his tie, his tone almost expectant, as if the thought brought him some satisfaction.
He turned and patted Cynthia on the shoulder. “Don’t forget, you’re supposed to check in at Miss Angel’s house tomorrow.”
