The Secret Contender

Chapter Four

Later that night, Gilbert returned home with new intel on Keith and Gia’s connection. He and his father settled into the study to hash things out.

“According to what I’ve found,” Gilbert began, “Gia is actually Keith’s granddaughter. His daughter got pregnant back in high school, and Keith erased her from the family register. She gave birth, left Gia at an orphanage, and then Keith took her in years later.”

Dylan leaned back, processing it.

“So that’s why he’s been molding her into his own perfectionist self,” he said.

“Dad, why did you and Mum look so shaken when you saw Gia?”

“She reminds us of someone we knew... when you were a teenager.”

“InLondon?”

“Yes,” Dylan lied. “Why do you ask?”

“A cop approached me when I got to Alaba. He said he’s investigating a hit-and-run case from eight years ago—one I was supposedly involved in.”

Dylan stiffened. “He must’ve confused you with someone else.”

“No,” Gilbert said. “He said I was his classmate.”

“Did you get his name?”

“Dont recall…but he's determined. He’ll show upagain,”

“Still, you should find out who he is.”

Gilbert shifted, voice sharp.

“Do you have another child somewhere, like Keith Zande?”

Dylan's face tightened. “Gilbert,” he said, looking around. “ Don't say that ever again. Not even as a joke. Your mother may take it seriously.”

Gilbert sighed. “Sorry Dad. I will go and rest now.”

“Don’t forget,” Dylan waved his hand. “Gia’s welcome party is tomorrow evening,”

Gilbert nodded and left Dylan, staring at Gia’s picture with unease.

That same night, Gleyn and Alika were mid-argument at their beach house in Alaba. Dogs barked, agitated, adding chaos to the scene.

Frustrated, Alika ran to her room, slamming the door—but Gleyn shoved it open and stepped in.

“I won't change my mind,” Alika yelled. “Stop nagging me about redoing it.”

“Nagging?” Gleyn retorted. “You’re a grown woman still leeching off us! Your younger brother is a famous actor, living life his way. And you can’t even draft a decent marketing plan for the hotel.”

“Mum, that’s enough!”

“No, it isn’t,” Gleyn said, eyes blazing. “You better impress Gia with a real business plan. Otherwise I’ll make your father remove your name from his Will.”

Alika blinked. “It’s come to that?”

“Spending is all you know best.” Gleyn’s voice cracked. “Let's see how you'll do it when you don't have a penny.”

Alike narrowed her gaze. “You set me up with Gilbert to save the family business? What more do you want?”

“Gilbert’s no fool,” Gleyn replied, almost softly. “Even with your beauty, that man won’t put up with laziness. Frankly, I saw him admiring Gia.”

“You did?” Alika became alert. “Why didn't you say anything?”

Gleyn scoffed. “And risk you embarrassing me and your father?”

Gleyn didn't wait for Alika’s response. It would just infuriate her more. When she was gone, Alika exploded.

“Gia… Gia… Gia,” she grunted. “ She just got to Alaba, and everyone's already obsessed with her.”

She shoved everything off her dressing table, as a cry escaped his lips.

Loud, frustrated. Infuriated.

“She humiliated me today. I swear—I’ll make her regret it.”

Keith sat in the courtyard, facing the glistening blue pool. The early sun painted soft gold across the water—too early for a dip, but not too early to worry.

Usually jovial, Keith wore concern like a cloak today. Gia’s arrival was as exhilarating as it was trouble. Her presence stirred up Alaba, and rivals would soon start knocking.

Keith sighed before startling. Gia had snuck up behind him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

“It's me, Grandpa,” she said with a mischievous grin.

Keith pulled her forward, and she hugged him. “Buttercup, did you sleep well?”

“I haven't slept so peacefully in years, “ she replied, half happy, “but…you've lost your sleep. Is it because of me?”

“I’m worried about the brewing storm, “ Keith admitted. “Your arrival is attracting attention; the bad kind.”

Gia sighed. “This was your idea,” Gia reminded him, eyebrow raised. “You said I should return to handle business—and I did.”

Keith smiled apologetically. “Taking over doesn't mean stirring trouble.”

“Is this about the Monroe and the Santander families?” she asked, her tone shifting. “They deserved my trouble. I won't be compared to the dead.”

Gias tightened, rage taking over her gaze. She clenched her fists. “And Alika Santander? She is a waste of my time. She can't even run her own business. No wonder it's sinking.”

Keith noticed and touched her cheek. “Gia,” he said softly. “We won't take over Swan if you frustrate them too soon.”

Gia suddenly laughed. “Grandpa, so that's your plan,” she said, smirking. “Here I thought you were defending them.”

Keith made a funny surprised face. “Why would I?”

Gia laughed. “I’ll play nice…but after I take over Swan. I'll throw them under the bus.”

Keith’s jaw tightened. “I can't wait,” he said, his gaze dark and firm as he drifted into the past. Shawn Santander ruined his family. He betrayed his daughter, leading her and their unborn child to death.

“A penny for your thoughts, Grandpa?”

“Your mother,” Keith said, gently brushing a loose strand of hair from Gia’s face. “I miss her.

“You have me now,”

Keith nodded. “The day I met you,” he said, stroking her hair. “ I was grateful to the heavens.… you are a consolation gift.”

Gia smiled, her eyes filled with tears as the past flooded back. It was a day of consolation for Keith but to her it was a rebirth.

“I’m sorry,” Keith interrupted her thoughts.

“About what?” she asked, correcting his face.

“You never met her,” Keith whispered, “ you must feel sad.”

Gia sighed and straightened, her eyes fixed on the sky. “Dont worry, Grandpa,” she said, almost whispering. “I’ll make them all pay. I promise.”

“I know you will, Buttercup.”

Gia smiled, then turned to Keith, kissing his forehead. “I love you, Grandpa.”

“And I love you too,” Keith whispered, my little light…..after losing Monica and Leah.”

The rest of the words didn't come out, drowned in his thoughts.

“The party is this evening,” Gia said, shifting her attention.

“Our apparel was delivered home yesterday.”

Gia beamed. “Shall we go choose our outfits?”

“Not now,” came a voice. They turned and saw Clarissa. “Breakfast is waiting.”

Gia turned and squealed excitedly.

She hugged Clarissa. “Nana!”

“My big baby,” Clarissa teased, pulling Gia’s cheeks. Gia giggled, hooking her arm around Clarissa's.

“What’s for breakfast?”

“Go and check,”

Gia nodded, chortling as she rushed inside.

Then Clarissa turned to Keith, her tone soft.

“Gia loves you,” she said. “I'm sure she wouldn't leave if you told her the truth.”

Keith sighed, distress written on his face.

“She doesn't have to know,” he said, rising.

“Why not?”

Keith sighed again. “Let’s go and eat.”

Clarissa nodded. “I made your favourite pumpkin fritters as a side dish,” she said, chirpy.

Keith smiled. “What would I do without you?”

That evening, Gia stepped out of her sleek grey Huayra, dressed in navy blue and gold. Keith followed from his ivory limousine as cameras flashed. They walked arm in arm, every step calculated, gracing the crimson carpet toward the entrance of Swan Hotel.

Gia’s sweetheart-necklined dress marched the carpet's grandeur, flowing like silk around her—thigh-high slit revealing glowing skin that turned heads in admiration and envy.

Her black stilettos shimmered with gold, and her neck gleamed with a three-stone diamond necklace, matched by a statement ring.

The duo stopped in front of the gigantic glass doors, and turned to face the cameras. Gia flicked her hair. The crowd buzzed. Women saw a goddess. Men saw a temptation. Journalists scrambled for shots.

Keith proudly stood beside her, a scarlet Zoot suit worth thousands, complementing her confident and elegant look. They were a walking symbol of legacy and power.

As they passed through the hotel entrance into the banquet hall, the spectacle outside was complete.

Keith inhaled deeply as he stepped into the hall—ready to ignite the first step in avenging his daughter’s death. And Gia mirrored his breath, though for different reasons. The banquet hall brimmed with strangers, and despite her playful spirit, crowds made her pulse race.

Keith squeezed her hand—a silent reassurance. She nodded and wrapped her arm around his. With him, she felt safe.

“Thank you, Grandpa!” she whispered.

The hall felt otherworldly, dressed in scarlet, purple, and cobalt linens, shimmered under crystal chandeliers—Gia’s favorite palette.

Now alone, she glided forward beneath the lights, catching flashes from cameras, her Gardenia scent trailing through the air like a whisper.

Gia was radiant—envied by women, adored by the men. Yet beneath the glimmer, a sadness stirred. Her life, though lavish, was hollow without truth… without family. The glow in her eyes dimmed as she faltered, stumbling toward the sleek, marble floor.

But before she hit it, a firm grip caught her waist.

Gilbert Monroe.

Their eyes locked, fading the hall's noise. Only breath and memory lingered.

Gilbert’s pulse spiked—her touch oddly familiar. He pulled her upright, still entranced.

“Thank you…” Gia whispered.

“You owe me,” he said, voice unreadable.

“Pardon?”

“Nothing is free in this world.”

“Tell me what do you want,” she said, her expression unreadable, “and it's yours.”

Gilbert chuckled. “That fast, huh?” he said, eyes still on her. “ I guess there's nothing Gia Zande cannot do.”

Gia didn't speak. “I’ll claim my prize when the time’s right,” Gilbert added, and turned to Keith, who approached them

“Are you alright, darling,” he asked, taking his granddaughter's hand.

Gia smiled weakly, embracing him lightly. “I just slipped. It's nothing.”

Keith gave Gilbert a grateful nod, and he returned it.

Dylan and Zain joined them soon after, their expressions frantic. The sight of Gilbert and Gia together made them uneasy. Gilbert never fully recovered from the accident years ago.

And though he was taken abroad for emergency treatment—wiping selective memories to preserve his sanity, his PTSD and dissociative symptoms never fully faded.

And Gia was bound to stir something long buried.