Sabrina’s POV
When we touched down, Ava was already waiting on the tarmac–smiling like she had when we were kids sneaking into our
mother’s office.
“Oh, I missed you, honey,” she breathed, pulling me into her arms. Her hug was strong, familiar, grounding. Then she scooped
Elly up, peppering kisses across her cheeks.
“And Elly! Did you miss Aunt Ava?”
“I missed you!” Elly giggled, throwing her arms around Ava’s neck.
I smiled. They smiled.
And in that moment, everything felt right.
“Miss Sabrina is back!”
The manor echoed with excitement as I stepped through the gates. Staff and maids swarmed in with cheers, warm embraces, welcoming me like I had never left.
“Come on,” Ava said, lacing her fingers through mine. “Mother had the maid prepare enough food to feed three hundred people.
You know how she is.”
The Marcellus manor was exactly as I remembered–grand, gilded, but wrapped in warmth. It didn’t need to prove anything. It just was.
And when I saw her–our mother–I froze.
She looked the same. Strong. Beautiful. Unyielding.
The woman who had raised us alone after Father’s death, who built an empire out of nothing but grit and rage and brilliance. The reason the Marcellus name was feared in every corner of the Americas–from our casinos in Vegas to our shipping lines, to the quiet but ruthless trade routes we kept out of the headlines.
She wrapped me in her arms, and for the first time in a long time… I let myself feel small. Safe.
“I missed you, little one,” she whispered, her voice breaking as she held me tight.
“I missed you too, Mama.”
I was home,
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Dinner was extravagant. Plates upon plates of carefully prepared dishes–things I hadn’t tasted since the day I left.
Elly sat beside me, eyes wide, soaking in every new flavor, every new story. And when the table quieted, she leaned close and
whispered in my ear.
“Mommy… this place is so much better than our old home.”
I laughed softly. “Of course it is. Your grandma and your aunt love you very much, baby.”
She hesitated. “Are we going back to our old house?”
I met her eyes, brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, and shook my head.
“No, sweet girl. We’re never going back.”
And she smiled.
That bright, blinding smile that made the past feel lighter, and the future feel like a promise.
I’d spent the past few days doing nothing but breathing–really breathing. No anxiety pressing on my chest or icy weight of
betrayal trailing my every move.
Just warm sunlight, family laughter, and peace.
Until the maid came rushing in.
“Miss Marcellus,” she said, breathless, “there’s a man at the gate. He says he’s your husband and that he needs to see you.”
Archie.
Just like that, the calm was gone–evaporated in a second. My jaw clenched, and the old rage returned, curling through me like
smoke.
What the hell was he doing here?
I smoothed down my dress, squared my shoulders, and made my way toward the front gate. But before I got there, I heard Ava’s voice. Sharp, lethal, and gloriously unfiltered.
“How dare you show your face here, Archie?” she snapped. “I trusted you with my little sister. And this—this is what you did
with that trust?”
There was no softness in her tone. Only fire.
“Don’t come crawling back like some wounded animal. We Marcellus don’t need pity. We sure as hell don’t need the Valez.”
She let out a cold laugh. “Oh, spare me that pathetic face. If you knew you made a mistake, maybe–just maybe–you shouldn’t
have made it in the first place.”
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A click of her heel. “Now, before I shoot you and plant a flower bed over the body, get off our land. My sister doesn’t need to see
you. You piece of shit.”
And Archie’s voice, angry and defensive, but still trying to play the victim.
