Welcome Home, Miss Rivera
1268 Words
It took almost an hour, but Dante reached Zenith and found his sister standing alone at the bus stop. She didn't say a word when she saw him step down from the car, but her eyes brimmed with unshed tears.
Dante said nothing in return. He simply took off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders. He helped her into the vehicle before he tossed her bags into the trunk and they left.
He drove her down to a hotel where he booked a suite, handed her a shopping bag with a change of clothes and toiletries, then he ordered room service while she disappeared into the bathroom.
Cressida stood under the cold shower, unmoving as the icy sprinkle coursed down her bare skin. Sadness no longer sat heavy in her heart. Just rage, cold, bitter and alive.
She came out of the bathroom with a towel draped around her body. Dante stood in front of the bed, a variety of food and snacks placed on trays spread above it.
"I didn't know which one you'd prefer, so I got all of them," He explained, reaching for an apple on one tray.
Cressida smiled warmly as she approached the bed. Dante was always indecisive when under pressure. She snatched the apple in his hand, and took a bite out of it. "Thank you. I'll just have an apple."
Dante chuckled and turned to the door. "I'll leave you to get dressed then."
"Dante," Cressida called. and he stopped just as he'd opened the door. "I'm scared to go home," she said softly. "What if Father doesn't want me back anymore. I said some stupid things I'm not proud of."
Dante closed the door and trotted back to her. He placed his hands on her shoulders, rubbing them gently as he said to her, "Father doesn't care about the things you said or did. He just wants you home. You and your child," he smiled, glancing at her tummy.
Cressida's cheeks burned red warmly and she watched with a smile as Dante gave her privacy to put on the clothes he'd bought. She searched through the shopping bag, there were five different dresses in it, but only one stood out to her.
It was a silver lace dress, from her favourite designer - CUCCI. She smiled when she saw the note attached to it.
"Dante gave me the news. Here's a perfect dress, for the perfect return."
Without sparing another look on the dresses, she wiggled her body into the dress and admired its flawless fitting to her body. CUCCI never messed around with her dresses, and this one was a sight for sore eyes.
She stepped into the hallway and found Dante leaning against the wall.
"How do I look?" She asked, doing a little spin for her brother and topping it off with a small courtesy.
"Good," He responded and Cressida smacked him gently on the head with her purse. He chuckled, rubbing his head gently. "What I meant to say was; You look ravishing."
They left for the airport, where Cressida's Private Jet - Elysian Sky was waiting. Cressida was nervous. She had only been away from her life of luxury for a short time, but everything already felt unfamiliar.
During the flight, the attendants served her drinks and snacks, but her mind was elsewhere. She sat quietly, gazing out the window at the fading clouds, while her thoughts drifted to her father, to home, and everything she'd left behind.
"You should get some sleep," said Dante, "Victoria City has a different time zone from Manhattan."
Cressida nodded and lay down on the plush leather seat, barely minutes later, she was out cold.
When their plane landed at Victoria City Airport. Dante tapped her shoulder gently. “Rise and Shine, Princess.”
Cressida groaned in protest and turned the other way.
“Are we there yet?” She asked, still half-asleep.
Dante laughed softly. “We landed ten minutes ago.”
She gave him an awful look of disapproval for disturbing her sleep, then she sat up and stretched. A yawn escaped her lips while her joints cracked in places she never knew they existed.
“Are you ready?” Dante asked, holding out a silver masquerade mask and little crown. “Let's give the press a show.”
“The press?” Cressida mouthed, utterly smitten.
Dante nodded. “Elysian Sky hasn't been seen in Vatican Airways since your departure. Hearing about it landing today would certainly stir a crowd.”
Cressida hummed thoughtfully.
She took the mask off his hands and slipped it over her face. Then, bowing her head slightly, she let him place the little crown gently atop her hair.
Dante took a step back to fully take in her grace. “Maybe I should have gotten a bigger crown.”
“Oh please,” Cressida chuckled.
The door opened with a soft wush, and Cressida could already see the blinding lights of the press.
She took Dante’s arm and he led her down the steps of the Jet.
A wall of flashing cameras exploded before them, reporters shouted her name, microphones flying in the air, but security did their best to keep the chaotic crowd at bay.
A part of her was scared, another part simply just excited to be back where she belonged.
“Miss Rivera, what led to your disappearance? We heard you're back to take over the company, is that true? Does your return have anything to do with your ailing father?”
The last words struck her. ‘Ailing? Dante never mentioned anything about their father being sick.’
She tried to look at Dante, but he gave her hand a gentle squeeze and whispered. “Ignore their questions. They'll say anything to get you to speak.”
So Cressida kept her chin up, her hand clutching Dante’s arm tightly, and walked forward gracefully.
But as they neared the sleek black limousine flanked by multiple security vehicles at the end of the red carpet, her heart plummeted into her stomach and steps slowed.
Waiting beside the limo was her father, Eduardo Rivera. Dressed in an all-black suit. Stoic. Imposing. And every inch tall of the powerful man she remembered.
But it wasn't just him.
Standing beside him was Luther, the man she was obligated to marry. The deal she never wanted. And the reason she fled.
She hadn't seen him since abandoning him at the altar. She never felt she owed him an apology, but his presence now? Something was brewing.
She let out a shaky breath as the distance between them shortened.
“Cressida,” her father said, his voice deep, steady, and still carrying that authority that could make grown men shake. “You're home.”
She paused and swallowed. Her throat hitched, but she managed a small nod, her lips curving into a faint smile. “Hello Father.”
They stared at each other, longer than necessary. Then he opened his arms, and without hesitation, Cressida hugged him. He smelled the same, like expensive perfumes and old money.
It was a brief hug, but Cressida enjoyed it.
She stepped back, and Luther walked up to her, still handsome, still arrogant. His eyes roamed over her with the familiarity of one who once thought they owned her.
Then in that calm baritone voice she remembered too well, he smirked and said, “Welcome Home, Miss Rivera.”
Cressida's brow twitched.
The press could wait. Her revenge could wait. But Luther? He was going to be a problem, and she had to get rid of him.
- Writer
