Chapter Six
1559 Words
Beneath the bridge, a black van idled in the silent night.
Moments later, a sleek Range Rover pulled up. Keith stepped out, flanked by two bodyguards. From the van, a man emerged—entirely dressed in black, his cap shadowing his face. He handed Keith a brown envelope. Keith chuckled and passed him a small pouch stuffed with cash.
“Your 50,000,” Keith said. “Keep trailing my granddaughter. Keep her safe.”
“As you wish, sir.”
The man returned to the van and sped off into the night. Keith and his men got back into their car and drove away.
Back home, Keith sifted through the latest photos—Gia at boutiques, coffee shops, and dinner parties. But one image held his gaze: Gia entering the NPID building.
She was likely there to see Ebert. But what chilled him was knowing Ebert's friend, Michael Roldan, was there too. That detail, devastating and dangerous, could unravel everything. After all, Maria was Gia.
Clarissa entered the study, setting a mug of coffee in front of him. Keith lazily lowered his gaze to pick it up, his reflection staring back on the dark-wooded mahogany table. Then he took a sip, gazing at Gia’s portrait hanging on the wall.
“I’m afraid… her brother is on to her,” he said quietly.
“Then tell her the truth,” Clarissa urged.
“I can’t. Everything is different now... I love her. Blood or not.”
“Exactly why you should be honest.”
“What if she hates me…leaves me? I can't bear it.”
“If he finds out, will you—?”
His voice cracked. “He’s Gia's brother. I could never hurt her in that way,” he said and paused, sighing.
“But I just want him far from her.”
“Gia loves you. She won’t abandon you.”
Keith nodded solemnly, drinking from his mug.
Just then, Gia bounced into the room, excited.
“Buttercup?” Keith stiffened.
Gia grinned heartily. “Grandpa!” she said and hugged him, then Clarissa.
“When did you get home?” he asked, nervous.
“Just now,”
Keith exhaled. She hadn’t heard a word. She was still his Gia.
“I’m exhausted. Shower time.” Gia announced.
“I’ll serve dinner then,” Clarissa replied as they exited together.
In her room, Gia sighed. Keith thought she had no memory of her past, but she knew her identity….and everything that happened to her.
She wasn't his biological grnadchild. His died alongside her mother years ago. But she had pretended not to know all these years.
Would her grandfather be angry if he foubd out? She thought, then shrugged, brushing it off. She pressed play on her voice receiver. One message.
Hey Gia. Whatever you do, don’t accept Michael’s offer. Love you.
Gia smirked. “He's blabbering again?” she said and dialled his number.
“Gia!” he answered cheerfully.
“I just listened to your message…” Gia went straight to the point. “What are you on about?”
“Micheal had a sister, Maria, and you're her lookalike.”
Gia chuckled. “Old news, could she be the one the Monroes talked about?”
“That’s her. She died in an accident, which Gilbert survived.”
Gia scoffed. “So what? People resemble each other. It’s not world-shattering.”
“But Michael wants you to help Gilbert recover his memory.”
She laughed. “I won’t help him if you don't want me to.”
“You let him know when you visit.”
Gia sighed. “I can't,”
Keith didn't want her around them. Besides, staying closer to Micheal was bound to raise suspicion.
Ebert pouted. “Let me guess—Keith Zande happened?”
Gia nodded.
Ebert scoffed. “My end, Priscilla, your end, Keith Zande. I wonder why they just can't let us be,”
Gia laughed. “Let me talk to Grandpa…. For now, just accept my apology.” she said and disconnected.
Then she leaned back, studying Gilbert’s schedule. Her thoughts lingered on his memory lapse—-a perfect opportunity to push Alika out of the picture, she thought. Shawn Santander would pay for hurting her grandfather’s family.
After dinner, Alika lingered. She’d made everyone believe she was there to familiarize herself with the Monroe mansion. But she was waiting for Gilbert. Tonught she would spend a night with him, she thought.
When he finally arrived, she was in his room, nestled under his sheets in the dark.
The lights went on, and she stirred, stepping closer.
“Alika?”
What was she doing there?
His eyes finished his inquiry.
“Your mother invited me for dinner,” she said, grinning. Then she embraced him, his warmth blissful on her body.
But Gilbert pulled away, loosening his tie. “It's late, and you’re in my room?”
“Your mother—”
Her hand reached for his tie. But he stepped back—too quickly, too obvious.
“You didn't have to obey her,” he said. “ You should have a mind of your own.”
“Does my presence offend you?” she asked coyly, eyes scanning his bare chest.
Gilbert's expression turned dark. “Your eyes too,” he replied and turned to the mirror. “Need I remind you…this isn’t a romance?”
“Regardless. I'm your wife-to-be.”
Gilbert chuckled. “You seem so dedicated. Is for love or becoming the lady of Eye Inc.?”
“I love you,” Alike replied quickly. “It's has nothing to do with Eye Inc.”
“Unbelievable,” Gilbert said incredulously. “for reasons I don’t get, my parents chose you. But dont think for a second I will agree to this.”
“You hate me so much. I dont get why,”
Gilbert shook his head. “I dont. I just can't stand how your business is collapsing, and you can’t even revive it.”
Alika looked down, embarrassed.
“I'm working on a plan, remember?”
“Because Gia said so,” Gilbert grunted. “but this was supposed to be done long before she or I came along. It's your responsibility.”
“Stop. I said I'll work on it”
“The presentation is after tomorrow, and im yet to see your plan. Maybe if you stopped playing the doting fiancée and focus, things—”
“Stop!” Alika screamed, hereyes glaring devouringly.
Gilbert snorted. “Go on. At least you know how to do something right,” he said and disappeared into the restroom. Alika pouted, stubbornly getting into his sheets. She wasn’t leaving. Not today.
When Gilbert returned, he took Alika to the family gallery—-an obsessionhed use to keep her out of his room.
Alika smiled. The tour was worth it.
She smiled, gripping his arm as they toured the paintings. “Your family has exquisite taste in art,”
He smiled. Nothing more, nothing less.
Then Alika felt cold, and Gilbert draped his coat over her shoulders. She blushed as she brought it to her nostrils, taking in his scent.
“We end the tour here?” he said, almost catching her.
“We’ve just started.”
“Its been an hour. You’ll catch a cold if we stay much longer ” he said and extended a hand. Alika accepted it, letting him lead her to the exit. As they walked the long corridor to Gilbert's room, a staff approached.
“Good evening, Sir,” Kiwi said quietly.
“Kiwi? You haven't retired to bed?”
Kiwi smiled. “Not yet. Ma'am asked me to take care of Ms. Santander.”
Alika glared. Rather than serving her, she was disturbing them.
“No need. Please go to bed,” Gilbert said and turned to Alika. “Let’s go. I'll show you your room.”
“Her roo. Is on my way, sir,” Kiwi said. “Let me do it.”
Gilbert agreed before Alika could refuse, and rage simmered beneath a smile.
“Goodnight then,” she said, leaving with Kiwi. Halfway to the guest room, Alika grabbed Kiwi’s arm.
“How dare you?”
“I don’t understand—”
“I saw how you looked at Gilbert. But know this…he's mine!” Alika said and pushed Kiwi to the cold wall, slamming her elbow.
Kiwi was sobbing now, but Alika was determined. Kiwi had to know her place, she thought. “Next time, I’ll destroy that face of yours.”
More staff approached. The noise had stirred them. But Alika quickly composed herself, feigning concern.
“Are you alright?”
Silence fell. Alika chuckled uneasily, her hand brushing Kiwi's over jacket.
“Be careful next time. You are lucky it was the wall this time.”
Kiwi recoiled. Alika was threatening her. With that, Alika smiled and walked on, leaving her colleagues clustered around Kiwi.
“Wow, Ms. Santander is so kind,” one gushed.
“Way better than Mrs. Monroe,” another added.
“She’s perfect for the young master,” uet a other added.
Kiwi wiped her tears, frustrated. “You don’t know what you’re saying.” she said and ran off.
“What’s with her?” they asked each other before wandering off, confused.
- Writer
