Erick skipped dinner tonight.
It was not like he was hungry anyway.
Michel threw a fit over the security cameras, yelling as if somebody had sabotaged his entire life.
Meanwhile, Erick helped Mrs.
Hollis carry groceries, fixed the kitchen clock, and checked out the dullest book in the library.
Every calm thing he did made Michel even angrier.
Petty, perhaps.
Erick no longer cared.
After the day he had endured, he figured he had earned some petty revenge.
“You’re difficult to find these days,” Remi said, stepping out from under the oak tree by the garden path, hands jammed in her jacket pockets like she was cold.
“Occupational hazard,” Erick said with a shrug.
She fell into step beside him without another word.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Perfect gardens hid the mansion’s internal chaos.
“Michel fired two guards today.”
Erick snorted.
“Over blurry security footage?
Predictable.”
Remi released a familiar, tired laugh.
Mrs.
Hollis must’ve shoved the paper bag at Remi, because suddenly she was holding it out to him.
“You didn’t eat.”
Inside was a chocolate chip cookie with one bite missing.
Erick broke it in half and handed her the untouched side.
“How chivalrous,” Remi said dryly.
“I hate eating alone.
Feels like I’m already divorced.”
That got a real laugh out of her.
They settled onto the stone bench by the fountain.
That easy silence settled between them—the kind you only get with someone who’s drowning in the same bullshit as you.
“Michel stole my software design three years back,” Remi said quietly.
“Sold it under his name to one of the subsidiaries.”
“How much?”
“Three million.” Erick scoffed softly.
“Michel really undersells himself.”
She elbowed him.
“You’re terrible.”
He shrugged.
“Promoted himself after, didn’t he?”
“Executive director.”
“Predictable.”
Remi leaned back against the bench.
“Evelyn said I was being dramatic when I complained.”
“Evelyn Laurent calling someone corrupt?
That’s hilarious.”
The corner of her mouth twitched, then she went quiet again.
“Erick.”
Something in her voice made him turn.
“Did Dominique really tell you about the pregnancy today?”
His jaw tightened.
Even now, the word tasted bitter on his tongue.
“Said she ‘handled it.’ Right in front of Cartier.” He shrugged.
“Real classy moment.”
Remi frowned.
“What’s that mean?”
But the fear in her eyes said she already knew.
She just didn’t want it to be true.
Erick stared at the dark fountain water.
“She got rid of it.”
Remi threw her half of the cookie into the bushes.
“No.” Her voice broke.
“That’s a lie.”
“Her exact words.”
Remi dragged her hands down her face.
“When she first told me, she actually smiled.” Her throat worked.
“I thought… maybe this family finally gave her something good.”
Erick let out a hollow laugh.
If he didn’t, he’d start punching holes in walls.
“That’s what this family does.”
Remi looked sick.
“A week later, she said it was gone,” she whispered.
“I thought she lost it naturally, and she made me swear not to tell.
Especially you.”
Erick looked at his hands.
His nails had left crescent marks in his palms.
“Our kid,” he said quietly.
“She called it a mistake.”
The garden went dead silent.
Then Remi reached over and squeezed his fist.
“Christ, Rick.
I shouldn’t even be saying this… she and Evelyn already think I’m meddling…”
“I get it, Remi.
Do not ruin yourself defending me.” He really meant it.
Dominique’s voice sliced through the dark like a blade.
“Remi.”
She stood on the porch in her silk robe, face unreadable in the golden light.
“Inside.
Now.”
“We were talking,” Remi said.
“I can see that.” Her eyes locked onto Erick like a rifle sight.
“You and my sister.
This family collects trash.”
Erick stood slowly.
For the first time in years, he didn’t make himself smaller for her.
“We were discussing baby killers,” he said calmly.
“You should join us.
Share your expertise.”
“Erick, stop.” Remi looked between them.
“I…”
Dominique turned to her half-sister menacingly.
“Should I tell you twice to get inside?
You’re being too involved, like your mother did.”
Remi flinched.
Erick frowned slightly.
Dominique had never spoken to her like that before.
“It was unnecessary, Dominique…”
Remi sighed.
“Fine, I will go inside.” She gave him a concerned look before heading inside.
She stepped closer, nose-to-nose.
“I want a divorce.
End this joke.”
“A divorce?” Erick repeated.
“Yes,” she sneered triumphantly.
“Ready to lose everything?
Go back to fixing AC units?”
Erick stared at her silently.
Five years suddenly felt very expensive.
Dominique smiled cruelly.
“She’s just the mistress’s daughter.
A charity case.”
She turned to leave.
Erick stepped into her path.
“You used to hate your father’s crimes,” he hissed in her ear.
“Now you love his stolen power.
Let Martin Clarke touch you just to climb higher.”
Dominique gasped, trying to pull away.
“You’re worse than Leroy,” Erick growled.
“At least he owns being a monster.”
She yanked free, face flushed with panic.
“You have no right…”
“I have every right,” Erick interrupted, stepping closer.
“You took away my chance to be his father.”
Dominique looked away.
Without another word, she scrambled inside and slammed the door.
Erick watched the door for one last second.
Five years of sleeping in a storage room, swallowing insults, and pretending not to notice every time they looked down on him.
He had told himself it was worth it.
Every humiliation.
Every lie.
Every night spent wondering how much longer he could keep playing the fool.
But tonight, something had changed.
He wasn’t going to wait anymore.
The thought surprised him.
For years, patience had been his shield.
He had swallowed every insult because anger would expose him, and exposure would ruin everything he had spent five years building.
But Dominique had just asked for a divorce as if he were the one with nothing to lose.
She had no idea.
None of them did.
Erick looked back at the mansion.
Its windows glowed warmly against the dark garden, hiding the people who had spent years treating him like he was worthless.
Tomorrow, those same people would wake up believing they still knew exactly who Erick was.
They were wrong.
Erick pulled out his burner phone and dialed a number no one had used in five years.
He wasn’t going to wait anymore.
Erick pulled out his burner phone and dialed a number no one had used in five years.
Aria answered instantly.
“Quade?”
“Inform the board,” Erick said quietly.
“I’m coming home.”
Aria gasped.
“Five years in the dark.
You’re sure?”
Erick looked toward the estate.
“Tell them Quade’s back.”