CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

Uriel brought his car to a halt in front of the mansion and tossed his keys to a waiting guard. He then walked over to Catherine, who was seated in a wrought-iron garden chair surrounded by five empty chairs, a glass of chia seeds tea on the table beside her. She looked up, smiled, and pulled her warm wooden wrap tighter around her shoulders.

He smirked, leaning down to kiss her temple. "Hey, Cat, why are you out here? You could easily catch a cold."

She snorted, looking away. "Were you waiting for me? I'm not a kid anymore; you should at least get some sleep." He reminds her pointing to his chest.

Catherine whipped her head back toward him, her fingers fidgeting with the table. "I'm not waiting for you, dear," she lied, biting her lower lip. "I'm not feeling sleepy, and the weather's quite chilly today. Why aren't you wearing your jacket? It's chilly outside."

He glanced down, realizing he was only in a pristine Versace polo top. "Nah, something came up, and I had to discard it," he replied, taking a seat next to her. Catherine playfully rolled her eyes.

"You need to wear heavier clothing, Uriel; it's not nice to be wearing such a skinny outfit," she advised, sipping her chia seed tea. "I'm going on a business trip tomorrow with your dad. It's a seminar in Liverpool, so I want you to be good—no parties at home, and no friends in my house, sweetheart."

Uriel's mouth dropped open. He stared at Catherine in disbelief, a vein throbbing dangerously in his temple. "Get some sleep, Catherine. You're going to need it," he said before standing up and walking into the living room, where he saw his father, eyes glued to the screen.

Mr. Jefferson's eyes shifted from the screen to focus solely on him. "You're past curfew, young man," he said, his voice slightly aggressive, almost a growl. "Care to explain where you went, staying out this late?"

Uriel raked a hand through his dirt-blonde hair. He grinned wickedly, his annoyance at his father rising with each passing minute. "I don't care to explain where I went, old man. You should go to sleep before you collapse tomorrow at the airport," he suggested sarcastically. Mr. Jefferson clenched his fists, knuckles white. "The media and paparazzi would give anything, even the lives of their fellow coworkers if they had to, just to have the Jeffersons on screen, so go lie down."

Uriel walked up the flight of stairs before his father could say anything. In a fit of rage, his father stubbed his toe on the tempered glass table his laptop was on, and pain flooded him instantly. Uriel opened his room, seeing it neatly arranged and swept, and slammed the door shut, its sound reverberating across the house. He hurried to his cupboard, pressing a button that revealed a secret compartment holding his drugs. He opened the bottle, took a single pill, and swallowed it, his Adam's apple bobbing.

Instantly, his senses heightened. The cacophony of noise also intensified, and he fell face-flat onto his bed, embracing the comforts of his sheet before passing out.

The Next Day, Ecoland Estate, Marylebone, UK

The cozy cottage mansion stood tall before Megara, its lawn meticulously trimmed, flanked by exquisite tarred roads and well-planned housing. The sun blazed in the sky, almost blinding her as she gazed farther into the neighborhood, where more luxurious mansions came into view.

Her father stood beside her. Noticing her trembling hands, he held them tightly. She looked at him, offering a curt nod and a knowing smile. Mr. Smith pressed the doorbell, its chime echoing.

A voice screamed from within, "Lacey, go get the door right now!" He turned, looking at Megara, who shrugged in response.

"Mum, you go get the door! I'm on FaceTime with Evans, remember?" Another, much younger voice fired back, startling both father and daughter.

Megara had heard from her mother how terrible a parent Milicent was, but she hadn't truly believed it until now.

"Sweetheart, go get the door; it might be the rich neighbors down the street," the older female voice said, almost a growl. "Go get it or forget shopping this weekend."

Megara looked at her father, signaling him to lean down. "Dad, do they not realize they're screaming their brains out?" she whispered. Her father chuckled, straightening up as he heard footsteps approaching.

The door swung open, revealing a tall blonde girl whose cheeks were flushed pink, as if assaulted by a blush monster. Her eyes were as deep hazel brown as creamy coffee, her nose a cute button, and she had freckles not bold enough to cause a stigma. She looked practically adorable, like a real-life doll, her bubblegum bursting with an echoing pop as she chewed it.

Lacey stood glued to the doorway, first assessing Mr. Smith, then Megara, whom she quickly recognized as the "superstar nerd" all over the news. Megara grew nervous, staring down at her uniform, trying to see if she had any dirt on it.

"Lacey, who's at the door? Is it the rich neighbor or just a ghost?" Milicent screamed from inside.

Lacey turned her face back into the house. "Mum, it's not the neighbors; it's the superstar nerd and some old man I can't quite recognize!" she replied, practically yelling.

Milicent approached the door, her heels clinking with an staccato beat on the marble tiles. Lacey moved away as her mother stepped in beside her. Milicent's face flushed white, drained of color, as if she had seen a ghost.

"Denver, is that you?" she stuttered and stumbled back as he nodded, affirming his identity. "It's been ages since I last saw you, and who is she?"

Denver looked at her, a smile plastered on his lips, as he pulled Megara close by her shoulder. "This is my daughter, Meghan Arianna Smith, preferably called Megara, as she likes it. And Megara, this is your Aunt Milicent, my elder sister." He introduced, slightly pushing Megara forward to hug her aunt.

Milicent hugged Megara before pulling away, her face etched with a visible disgust that Megara noticed and wasn't quite comfortable with. "It's lovely to see you, but your father never told me he had a daughter, even after I heard your mother, Regina, had already left him," she remarked, and Lacey glared at Megara momentarily before shaking her hand.

"Mum, who are they?" Lacey asked, her confusion evident.

Milicent bit her lower lip before opening the door wide, ushering them in. "Hey, come in, Denver, it's quite uncomplimentary for you to be outside," she said, ignoring her daughter's question. Megara and her father entered, and Milicent pinched her daughter's arm, whispering to her. "You better shut up, Lacey, and don't ask stupid questions. Megara is your cousin, and Denver is the failure of a brother I told you about."

Lacey nodded, her eyes gleaming with disgust. "I bet they are here to beg for alms, but I'm sorry to inform them that our house isn't a charity foundation," she sneered, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she and her mother walked into the living room where Megara and her father stood.

The living room was painted white, with a cozy fireplace, three Moroccan leather couches, a loveseat, a Siberian bear fur rug, and a golden glass chandelier hanging from the roof. Medieval paintings hung on the wall, and there was a semi-detached mini wine gallery.

Megara stood frozen in the living room, her hands sweaty and uncomfortable. She was about to whisper to her father when Milicent walked in, smiling pretentiously. "You should come sit down," she urged them, pointing at the couch. "Don't be sturdy; I know not all of us are accustomed to luxury, but we all need a little luxury in our life, isn't that right?"

Mr. Smith didn't reply but quietly urged his daughter to sit down. "I'm not here for some chastising or downgrading conversation, Milicent," he warned, his tone sharp and cold. "I'm here because I was offered a job in Singapore, and the company didn't want me to bring Megara along."

Milicent sat down, and so did Lacey, who glared at them, the tension of disgust growing with each minute. "So you decided to bring my poor little niece to me instead. Where's her runaway mother?" she mocked, and Lacey laughed. "I'm sure she wouldn't want her at all."

Mr. Smith shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I brought money with me to cover up her expenses so she won't be a bother to you," he said, slamming a diamond black card on the glass center table, and Milicent's eyes gleamed brightly.

Lacey looked at her mother, snatching the card off the table. She inspected it, and her mother snatched it away from her hand, slamming it back on the table. "How should I trust you, Denver? After all, you're a poor man with no status or power. If you stole this from some rich man, what if he comes looking for his card?" she replied, and Mr. Smith smiled quietly.

Megara's nostrils flared, her blood boiling from her aunt's insults. Her mind still reeling and suspicious of her father's black card. "My dad got this card through his hard work. If you don't believe it, check the name on the card; maybe it would satisfy your curiosity," she remarked, nudging her father's side.

"This is a diamond black card containing nothing less than two hundred million pounds! How could a poor father like yours afford it?" Lacey asked, pouting and tossing her hair. "My father can only afford twenty-five million, and he still works for the Oswald Corporation as a sales manager."

Milicent checked the card, seeing her brother's name. Her hostile and belittling nature changed. "Ohhh, your daughter is welcome to stay at our home. Don't mind Lacey, she's a bit lacking in her manners of approach," she said, hitting Lacey square in her arm.

Mr. Smith looked at Megara, her eyes now widened in horror and disbelief. He looked back at his sister before slamming a file he had retrieved from his briefcase earlier. "Take a look at this, Milicent, and see for yourself."

Milicent took the file from the table, voraciously flipping through the pages. "You prepared a contract for just a small, trivial matter as this?" she asked, her voice low and questioning. It was evident her eyes were glaring daggers at him now. "I thought we were family. Shouldn't the contract be quite unnecessary?"

"It isn't, Milicent. You already told your daughter I was a nobody and a failure of a brother. I'm not quite sure what Lucas might do to my daughter when he returns or while I'm away," he remarked, sliding the card over to his side. "I want to make sure my only daughter is safe, so unless you intend on losing this money, I suppose you sign that contract."

Milicent flushed, her face devoid of color as she thought about how much shopping she could do with that money or how many high-end villas and rich friends she could make. Without thinking, she signed the contract, angrily tossing it over to him.

Mr. Smith inspected the document before slipping it into his briefcase. "Thanks for complying, and I'll have you know that you've sold my daughter a good portion of the house bedroom, twenty million, and privacy as stated in the contract," he informed, and Milicent was shocked, trying to reach out for the document. "It's too late, Milicent, and unless you want to go to jail, do not lay a finger on my daughter."

Milicent pointed an accusing finger at him, her face wrinkling, disfiguring the elegance of her heavy makeup. "How could you, Denver? That is cheating!" she stated, and Megara was shocked at her accusations.

"No, it isn't, Milicent. You signed the contract, not me, so according to the laws, you knew before you signed the contract, and you are responsible for your actions," he replied, showing her the video he had recorded on his phone. "This is you signing the contract and not me, so I suggest you make good use of this hundred and eighty million remaining."

Megara leaned over to her father's ear. "Dad, isn't that quite horrendous? How did you even get the money to do all this?" she whispered.

"I borrowed from a friend, and he willingly gave me, saying it was a compensation for the favor I had done for him in the past," he answered, whispering. "Can we get back to the house viewing, or should I leave with the money?"

Milicent's nostrils flared as she stood up from the couch, heading for the east wing stairs. Megara and her father followed behind as Lacey sneered wickedly before joining her mother in front. Milicent led them to a door situated at the end of the hallway.

"This is the only available room in the house," Milicent stated, her voice tight. "It's quite dusty and needs cleaning."

Mr. Smith opened the door, inspecting the room. It seemed suitable enough for Megara, who still couldn't shake her suspicion. Had her father sold a kidney for this money? she wondered, quickly dismissing the thought. She knew how hard he worked to raise her.

A cleaning agency was called, and the room was spotless in no time. Megara began to move her things in while her father awaited the return of his brother-in-law, Lucas Shaw.

Megara walked onto the beautiful balcony in her new room, taking in the view of the beautiful sunset and luxurious green trees as her father went into the bathroom to shower. She scrolled through her Facebook feed and rolled her eyes, muttering, "What a show-off," when she saw Brenda's post from a beach in the Bahamas. Suddenly, her phone rang, the noise shattering the silence of the room.

She answered, bringing the phone to her ear. Tobi's loud shout almost shattered her eardrums, making her pull the phone away. "Tobi, why are you shouting?" she asked, wincing.

"You won't believe it, Megara!" he excitedly replied. "Someone just sent me a brand-new Lamborghini, the newest model that hasn't even been released yet!"

Megara was baffled. She instantly remembered Uriel's promise to get Tobi a new car yesterday. A smile spread across her face. "That's amazing, Tobi! I'm so happy for you. Maybe it's a gift from a customer who admired your genuine and warm service?"

"This isn't a joke, Megara! The entire Brookeville is stunned, and Tara is seething with jealousy!"

Megara chuckled. "Don't worry about Tara and her threats; she'll calm down."

Tobi's tone grew more concerned. "Are you really moving to Marylebone to stay with an aunt you've never met? Are they going to treat you well?"

"Don't be worried," Megara reassured him. "My father's already taken care of everything."

Time seemed to fade quickly as they chatted. Her father emerged from the bathroom, fully dressed, and asked, "Everything alright? I heard your phone ring."

"It's just Tobi," she said, putting the call on loudspeaker so her father could hear.

"Hi Mr Smith hope you're doing great. He greeted.

"Hey, Tobi, I'm good if you don't mind I'll leave you two to it." her father replied, before slumping onto the bed, embracing the bedsheets, and preparing to take a nap.