Chapter Two Pt. II
871 Words
“Grandpa! Grandpa!” Gia called out, her voice full of excitement as she sprinted toward him. A servant swiftly grabbed her suitcase and wheeled it toward the car, but Gia only had eyes for the man waiting for her.
Keith, though age had slowed him, lifted his granddaughter off the ground for a brief, joyful moment, their laughter mixing with the warm afternoon air.
“Grandpa dearest!” Gia beamed, eyes shining.
“Gia, my darling!” Keith chuckled, looking her over with pride. “You’ve grown into such a beautiful young woman.”
Gia grinned and planted a playful kiss on his cheek. “Oh, Grandpa, you always know how to make me blush.”
“Come on, let’s go home,” Keith said, slipping his hand into hers. Together, they made their way toward the sleek car at the centre of their convoy.
“How’s Nanny?” Gia asked as she climbed in. Keith settled beside her before answering.
“She’s doing well. Clarissa stayed back to make your favourite meal.”
Gia shot him a look. “Don’t think food is going to make me forget that you missed my graduation.”
Keith sighed, his expression softening. “I know, buttercup. I’m sorry. Business got in the way, but I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
“You better,” Gia teased, her tone light despite her lingering frustration. She turned to the window, rolling it down and leaning out slightly. As the breeze hit her skin, she let out a delighted gasp.
“Wow! It feels so good to be home!” she shouted, letting the fresh air wash over her.
Keith smiled and patted her back. “Welcome home, buttercup,” he said warmly.
As the car pulled into the driveway, the grand estate loomed before them, bathed in the soft glow of the evening lights. The moment Gia stepped out, the scent of home—warm bread, lavender, and a hint of aged wood—wrapped around her like an embrace.
The front door swung open, revealing Clarissa, her warm eyes crinkling with joy.
“My dear Gia!” she exclaimed, rushing forward to envelop her in a tight hug.
“Nanny!” Gia laughed, sinking into the familiar comfort of her embrace. “I missed you so much.”
Clarissa cupped her face, studying her intently. “Look at you! More radiant than ever.”
Keith chuckled as he ushered them all inside. “Come now, the food won’t wait forever.”
The dining room was intimate despite its grandeur. The table, adorned with soft candlelight, held a feast—roasted lamb, buttery potatoes, and Gia’s favourite honey-glazed carrots. They settled in, laughter and conversation weaving effortlessly between bites.
After dinner, Gia rose, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
“I have something for both of you,” she said, reaching for her bag.
She pulled out two neatly wrapped packages. Handing one to Keith, she grinned. “Open it.”
Keith tore into the wrapping and stilled. In his hands lay an old pocket watch, gleaming despite its years. He traced the engraving on the back—his father’s initials.
“This… where did you find it?” he asked, voice thick with emotion.
“I tracked it down,” Gia said softly. “It belonged to great Grandpa. I knew you’d want it back.”
Keith swallowed hard, then pulled her into his arms. “This means more than you know.”
Turning to Clarissa, Gia presented the second gift, a delicate silver locket. Inside was an old photograph of Gia as a child, nestled in Clarissa’s lap, both of them mid-laugh.
Clarissa gasped, pressing a hand to her mouth. “Oh, sweetheart…”
“I had it made through AI,” Gia explained. “I know you have always wished you had held me when I was a baby. So I want you to always have it with you.”
Clarissa hugged her fiercely. “You are too thoughtful, my dear.”
Gia smiled, but weariness tugged at her. “I think I’ll head to bed. Cherush your gifts.”
After bidding them goodnight, she climbed the stairs, stepping into the familiar warmth of her room. But the moment she lay down, unease crept in. The past stirred, uncoiling in her mind like a restless storm.
With a frustrated sigh, she sat up, swung her legs over the bed, and walked to her desk. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard before typing a name she hadn’t spoken aloud in years—Gilbert Monroe.
The screen filled with images. And there, among them, was Michael.
Gia’s breath hitched. A candid shot showed him at the airport, caught talking to Gilbert. She traced his image, fingers trembling, eyes misting over.
“Oh, Michael…” she whispered, tears slipping down her cheeks.
But then, her gaze shifted.
Gilbert.
The warmth drained from her expression, replaced by something cold and sharp. Her jaw tightened.
He looked exactly the same. The same smug stance. The same calculating glint in his eyes.
A slow, simmering anger ignited within her.
Gia inhaled, steadying herself.
This time, she wouldn’t let him win.
This time, he’d pay.
- Writer
