Their faces brightened as she walked into the kitchen. It was the first time since their father's death that they had seen her smile. Even though it wasn't a completely willing smirk, the simple thought of her trying to give off some positive energy made them happier than they could admit.
Above it all, there was a shift only recognizable by the young — perhaps that natural instinct siblings share when they're hiding something. But they no longer needed to speak about the mission Ross was about to undertake.
"Good morning, Mom!" they said in unison, breaking the silence as if they'd rehearsed it.
"Good morning," she replied, passing by Ross toward the freezer.
Click.
She opened the fridge and took out a bottle of freshly squeezed orange juice — probably one of the many small luxuries she always had the house staff prepare for her.
"You stayed the night?" she asked while pouring the juice into a tumbler and downing it in one go.
"Yes, Mrs. Mutt," Linda replied calmly. Her tone always softened when speaking to Ross's mother — maybe out of respect for her age, or maybe because she was secretly in love with her son. Either way, the respect she showed was almost excessive.
"Your father knows you're here right . Don't want him sending the police out to look for you like last time," Mrs. Mutt teased.
Squeak!
She pulled a stool and sat down, eyes watching Linda as she cooked breakfast.
"Don't worry, ma'am, he already knows I'm here," Linda replied.
The conversation carried easily between them, while Ross and Marie exchanged glances, surprised. Their mother never teased about things like that — not this openly.
"Marie" Mom began, "I need some help with clothes for tomorrow. It's... my time of the month."
Ross rolled his eyes, visibly uncomfortable. It was the kind of talk most families would avoid in front of their children, but this family was different — too open, too revealing. When Ross had his first crush, his dad had found out, even though Ross had never told him. One of the perks — or curses — of being born into a Millionare family.
His prom night video had been recorded straight from the school's cameras and archived like a national treasure. And when Marie had her first period? Her mother had recorded that too. Privacy didn't exactly exist in their household.
But as the kid's grew up so did the space between them with their family. And with alot of companies the parents came to manage, the battle for privacy was won easily.
"I'm gonna let you women talk about your... women stuff," Ross muttered, swallowing a pancake whole and grabbing two more in his hands. He moved fast — like a cat escaping trouble — and made for the kitchen doorway.
As he walked away, Linda's eyes followed him unconsciously. Marie and their mother caught it instantly.
Mwah.
He kissed his mom on the cheek.
"Where are you going?" she asked aloud.
"Somewhere I don't have to hear about female stuff!"
"Grow up! You can't run from this forever!" she shouted after him, her voice echoing through the mansion.
"I know! That's why I want to get a head start!" Ross called back faintly as he disappeared up the hall.
Tsk.
Marie muttered, dropping the half-melted bag of ice — maybe from her body heat, maybe from pure annoyance.
"Don't waste your time with him," she said. "He's just a baby in an old man's body."
She stood, heading to the fridge for another bag of ice. Silence filled the kitchen again — the quiet hum of the fridge, the soft clink of glass. Mrs. Mutt poured herself another drink while Linda's heart sank slowly. The shock of being face-to-face with her had shaken her soul. A few hours of talking about Ross had been enough to make her dangerously obsessed — and that was her problem. They worked together. They were supposed to be professional.
Aah.
Mrs. Mutt sighed, finishing her glass. She'd noticed the way Linda looked at her son — the kind of look you give something you crave but can never have. She'd known about Linda's feelings since they were kids, but Ross… Ross never seemed to care, or maybe he just didn't notice. His ambitions blinded him — protecting him from the world of heartbreak, the kind that turns love into vengeance.
"So, when are we going?" Mrs. Mutt asked.
"After breakfast," Marie replied, removing the ice from her forehead. "Can't move a muscle in this state."
"Don't worry, puppy," her mother said with a faint smile. "You'll feel better soon."
....
Gulliver City – Street AE – Elderly House
8:20Am
The House was large and plain, unpainted, with bare brick walls — the kind of structure that could easily be mistaken for an old school. Green lawns stretched between the road and the building, dotted with flowers and patches of sunlight. Elderly residents moved about slowly — some watering roses, others reading or chatting under the shade.
One old man stood out, still in his robe, back bent, watering the garden with patient precision. His face was wrinkled but content, the face of someone who found purpose in routine. Nearby, a woman sat by the window sewing a pink flannel patterned with zigzag white lines, while a nurse helped another woman stretch by the left wing. It was a quiet, gentle place — the kind that smelled of peace and warm sunlight.
Vroom.
A yellow taxi rolled to a stop by the curb — one of those old types straight out of a '90s movie. Its tires were dirty, its engine tired from the long road. A few heads turned — curious faces peeking out to see who the visitor was.
Squeak.
The car door opened.
Thud.
A foot hit the pavement. Then Ross stepped out, his face catching the sunlight. Clean, sharp — almost unrecognizable compared to his usual work-worn look.
He'd chosen a taxi for a reason. Driving one of his father's big cars would draw attention, and attention was the last thing he needed for this visit.
Pha.
He shut the door behind him.
Vroom.
The taxi drove off, leaving him standing at the edge of the sidewalk — staring at the building that would mark the beginning of his fight to reclaim his father's legacy.