Chapter 17: Family First
724 Words
If Skye’s house was luxury—
Her mother’s was legacy.
The gates alone were intimidating—tall, black iron with gold detailing that shimmered under soft evening lights. As Skye’s car pulled in, the long driveway stretched ahead, lined with perfectly trimmed hedges and towering palm trees swaying gently in the breeze.
At the center stood the house.
No—
The estate.
Classic architecture blended with modern elegance—grand columns, wide balconies, and massive windows glowing with warm light from inside. A fountain sat proudly in front, water cascading in smooth, rhythmic layers.
Inside?
Even more breathtaking.
Polished marble floors reflected the chandelier light above. Gold accents traced the edges of furniture. The dining hall alone looked like something out of royalty—long table, high-backed chairs, everything pristine but still… lived in.
Home.
—
“SKYE!”
She barely stepped in before Stiles came sliding across the floor in socks like he was performing for an audience.
“You’re late,” he said dramatically.
“I’m on time,” Skye shot back, laughing. “You’re just early for no reason.”
“I live here half the time,” he shrugged.
“Not by choice,” their mom called from the kitchen.
Skye smiled instantly at the sound of her voice.
“Smells amazing,” she said, walking in.
“It better,” their mom replied, focused as she plated dishes. “I’ve been cooking all afternoon.”
Stiles leaned toward Skye and whispered, “Translation: we’re about to eat like kings.”
“I heard that,” their mom said without turning.
—
Minutes later, they were all seated.
Plates full.
Energy light.
Real.
Skye picked up her fork… paused… then slowly looked up with a grin forming.
“Oh no,” Stiles muttered.
“What?” their mom asked, suspicious.
Skye tapped the table lightly.
Then again.
A rhythm.
“Don’t you dare,” Stiles warned.
Too late.
Skye (grinning):
Yeah—
Mama in the kitchen, yeah she cooking like a queen,
Five-star meals, yeah you know what I mean,
Got the whole house smelling like a dream,
One bite down, now I’m losing my mind—
Stiles immediately joined in, drumming on the table.
Tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap.
Skye:
Sauce so rich, got me talking real nice,
If love was a dish, yeah you serving it twice,
I don’t need a chef, don’t need no advice—
Mama got the flavor, yeah she changing my life!
Stiles hyped her up. “AYYY!”
Their mom slowly turned.
Arms crossed.
Expression unimpressed.
“This,” she said calmly, “is family dinner.”
A pause.
“Not family rap night.”
Skye and Stiles froze—
Then burst out laughing.
“Worth it,” Skye said.
“Every time,” Stiles added.
Even their mom couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at her lips.
—
Dinner continued—stories, jokes, little arguments that didn’t mean anything.
For a moment—
It was just them.
No fame.
No pressure.
Just family.
—
Then Skye’s phone rang.
She glanced at it.
Frowned slightly.
“Hello?”
A deep, authoritative voice came through.
“Skye O’Hare. This is Triple H.”
Her posture straightened instantly.
“Oh—hi.”
“I’ll keep it brief,” he continued. “I’d like you at my office tomorrow morning. We have a few things to finalize regarding WrestleMania.”
Skye nodded, even though he couldn’t see her. “Of course. I’ll be there.”
“Good. See you then.”
The call ended.
—
Her mom looked up immediately. “Who was that?”
“WWE,” Skye said casually. “They want me at the office tomorrow. Final prep for WrestleMania.”
Stiles’ eyes lit up.
“Oh, I’m coming.”
“You’re not invited,” Skye replied instantly.
“I don’t need an invite,” he said. “I’m family.”
Their mom nodded. “He’s right. We’re coming.”
Skye stared at both of them.
“…You know what? Fine.”
Stiles grinned. “Let’s gooo.”
—
Laughter filled the room again.
But as Skye leaned back slightly, smiling, relaxed—
Her phone lit up on the table.
A notification.
Blocked number.
Still finding a way through.
She didn’t notice.
Didn’t even glance at it.
—
But the message sat there.
Unread.
Waiting.
- Writer
