Chapter 11
937 Words
Kingsley Salvatore
"I f*****g hate mornings..."
The morning sun was still weak, barely cutting through the gray haze that hung over the city.
I pulled the car up to the curb in front of the McCarthy mansion, engine idling low. Mariah... sat in the passenger seat, hands folded neatly in her lap, her cleaning bag resting between her feet like it weighed nothing.
She looked smaller today...older, somehow. The lines around her eyes deeper. She’d been quiet the whole drive, staring out the window like she was memorizing every tree we passed.
I killed the engine.
“You sure you don’t want me to walk you in?” I asked.
She shook her head, small smile tugging at her lips. “I’m fine, mijo. You’ve already done enough driving me around like I’m some fancy lady.”
“You are fancy,” I said. “To me, anyway.”
She reached over and patted my hand warmly, steady, the same way she used to when I was ten and crying because the kids at school called me an orphan.
She’d raised me after my parents died in that crash. No hesitation or complaints. Just Mariah...cooking breakfast at dawn, sitting with me through nightmares, teaching me how to tie a tie even though her own hands shook from arthritis some days.
I owed her everything. She opened the door, stepped out slowly. “You go on now. Don’t be late for your classes. That girl...Sara..she’s coming today, right?”
I nodded. “Yeah. She said she would.”
Mariah’s eyes softened. “Good. She needs something good in her life. That house…” She glanced toward the mansion gates, something heavy flickering across her face. “It’s not kind to her.”
I followed her gaze.
The gates were tall, black iron, curling like they were trying to keep something in...or someone out. The driveway stretched long and empty behind them. The house itself loomed at the end..white stone, tall windows, perfect and cold.
I felt a strong pull deep in my chest sharply and enchanting. Like the air itself was trying to drag me forward.
I frowned, hands tightening on the wheel.
Mariah noticed. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” I said too quickly. “Just… déjà vu or something.”
She studied me for a long second, then leaned down through the open window.
“Be careful with that girl, Kingsley,” she said softly. “She’s carrying more than she shows. She doesn't need more drama or anything to pull her back to the same spot.”
I nodded. “I know.”
She straightened, gave me one last look..full of love, full of worry, then turned and walked through the pedestrian gate. I watched until she disappeared around the side of the house.
The pull didn’t fade. If anything, it got stronger.
I stared at the mansion another moment. Something about it felt… wrong. Like I’d been here before. Like I’d stood in this exact spot and felt this exact ache.
I shook my head hard.
"Ridiculous."
I started the engine, shifted into drive, and pulled away from the curb.
In the rearview mirror, the gates shrank smaller and smaller.
Kingsley didn't see Sara step out of the front door just as his taillights disappeared around the corner.
He didnt see the way she paused, hand on the railing, pink top catching the weak morning light. Sara could not see Kingsley, she was caught up on her phone. deleting numbers that belonged to the people she once called friends.
She needed a fresh start.
And so, As Kingsley didn't see her look down the empty driveway with something like regret in her eyes.
They missed each other by seconds.
One would wonder how much Kingsley knew about Sara, and what his intentions were. Why would a billionaire like him, reduce to being a helping another man's wife?
Kingsley was no ordinary man.
He picked up his phone as he drove through the city streets, and sent a quick text to Sara...Wishing her a good morning. He put his phone back to safety and exhaled.
But his joy was cut short when his grandma, in New York city, started calling him.
He mumbled a few unheard words under his breath, before finding a safe space to part and answer the call.
He knew what it was all about. His grandma has been pressuring him to find a woman and settle down, but over these years. Kingsley refused, his eyes were set on finding the woman who once saved him...
And when he has finally found her, she belongs to another man. An ungrateful man who leaves traces of tears on her face.
Kingsley picked up his phone gently, then forced a calm and happy voice.
"Hello grandma..."
"Don't hello me, tell me the good news...Have you found the girl?!" She yelled impatiently.
He chuckled slightly, recalling how dramatic she could be. "Yes I have, but it's complicated."
"Then uncomplicate it...I don't want to die before seeing you settle down... People are talking...Oh lord...That my own grandson may be gay! Fix it!"
Then the call cut.
He sighed heavily, then slammed his head gentle on the Staring wheel.
He looked to his right and saw an old lady selling flowers. He suddenly got an idea.
He purchased one, a red rose with no thorns then drove away.
He wanted to try and warm up to her first, make her a friend... Sara's walls were to high.
Maybe...Just maybe.... She would open up to Kingsley and he would see what lies beyond her fake smile.
- Writer
