Gianna at the courtesan house

A man emerged from the bedroom. He had a distinguished presence—salt-and-pepper hair, an intimidating gaze, and a lit cigarette loosely gripped in his fingers. He walked with a silent authority and sat beside Francisca. She looked at him like he hung the stars for her.

"Blue, is it?" His voice was deep and sure.

"Yes, sir." Harper's reply was calm, chin raised.

"You are beautiful."

"Thank you, sir."

"Your eyes look tough."

"People say that."

He studied her before leaning forward.

"I want to ask you something, Blue."

"Go on, sir."

"Unless we remember, we cannot understand."

Harper didn't flinch.

"I hear and I forget. I see and I remember. I do and I understand," she recited, voice firm.

"Under all circumstances constitute a perfect virtue," he continued.

She knelt slowly before them, her hands resting gracefully on her lap.

"My generosity of soul. My sincerity. My earnestness. My kindness. It may all seem little but can save the world and build a legacy that I may never know!"

The man's eyes lit up. He smiled for the first time.

"You knew about the Dylan life in the penthouse?"

"To thine own self be true."

"You are loyal to people dearest to you?"

"I have to be the change that I wish to see around me."

"You are a good one, Harper."

Francisca beamed beside him. "She is brilliant, isn't she?"

"You definitely taught her well."

"Why did you summon me?" Harper asked, raising her gaze.

"He wanted to meet you."

"Oh."

"Do you know how to entertain a guest?"

"Quite well, sir."

"One of your professor sent this to me abroad and I don't know what it is all about. She said this tea is good for my health."

"Yes, it is! She brought it to class."

"Can I have some from you?"

"Sure, sir."

Jesse entered with a tray. Harper took the teabag, added it to a delicate cup, and poured hot water with steady hands. She handed it to him gracefully. He smiled, eyes softening.

"You are so graceful and loving. How old are you?"

"I'm 20 years."

"20 years and seen life already? It must have been very tough."

"Quite tough."

He touched her hand gently. "You are such a great girl. You will be very happy in the future. I promise you that."

Suddenly—

"Dad!" The loud cry made Harper spin around. Quincy stormed in, panic etched across his face.

"Quincy?"

"Dad, why are you here?"

"What type of question is that?"

Harper's head tilted. "Dad? He is your dad?"

"Yes, Harper. This is my father."

Her eyes widened. "Your father?" She turned to Francisca, who smiled without denial. Her jaw dropped.

"Then Madam Francisca… oh, she is your father's courtesan!"

"Yes, she is!"

"Oh!"

"And my wife too."

Harper's head reeled. "Your wife? She is your courtesan and your wife too?"

"Of course! She can be both!"

"Then Quincy's Mum?"

"She is Quincy's Mum too."

"What?" Harper gasped. Her lips parted, disbelief flooding her features. "She is Quincy's Mum? Quincy, she is your mum?"

"Sure! She is my mum."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"You never asked about my mum before."

"You never talk about her."

"You know her already—what else am I supposed to tell you?"

"You never call her Mum."

"She likes everyone calling her by her name, and I'm used to it too. I only call her Mum once in a while."

"Oh my goodness, I can't believe this!"

"But it's true."

"If she is your mum, Quincy, then she is Mrs. Dylan—both a wife and a courtesan. Why is she not living in the penthouse?"

"Why would I? I'm not interested in living there. I have to monitor things down here."

"Why don't you live with your husband then?"

"My husband loves traveling around. That's one of the reasons why Quincy took on the business early. But anytime he is around, he comes to the courtesan house, and I visit our home too."

"So Quincy grew up alone?"

"With his grandparents before they passed away. I wanted to move back home after they passed, but he ain't no mama's boy. He wanted to do his things. He wanted to be independent. So I moved on with my life, and he lived his own."

"I can't believe y'all are related."

"We are a family of 3."

"What do you mean by family of 3? You forgot to count your daughter-in-law, dear mother!"

The room snapped cold. A familiar sneer followed.

"Gianna? How the hell did you get in here?" Quincy's voice sharpened.

"How do you think? I followed my father in here."

"Your father doesn't come to the courtesan house!"

"Well, he started today, and I came as his business partner since y'all don't allow women in here."

"Jesse, tell the guards that we have an intruder here."

"Yes, ma'am."

"You wanna chase me away?"

"As you can see."

"You are having a family discussion—I have to be here!"

"Excuse me, Gianna. You are not my family."

"Whether you like it or not, Madam Francisca, I am part of your family! I'm married to your son!"

"I never accepted you, Gianna."

"But you accepted Blue, huh?"

"She shouldn't be your concern."

"Father-in-law!"

"Gianna, sweetie."

"Can you see what's going on here? They are treating me badly in your household! You refused to marry my mother and chose a courtesan over her. Now your son is doing the same! He wanna be like you and marry a prostitute!"

"How dare you, Gianna!" Fred slammed the table. The cups trembled. "What nonsense are you yapping? You are talking about my wife!"

"I know what I'm saying! Your son wanna treat me the way you did my mother, and I won't allow it!"

Francisca's tone was venom wrapped in silk. "Your first mistake is coming in here, Gianna. Ain't you scared of me? I can turn you into a courtesan if I wanna have mercy—or make you an escort to wash my courtesans' feet!"

"You will not do that!"

"Do you wanna try me?" Francisca smiled. Gianna shivered.

"Why are you supporting this girl! Father, are you not here to talk to Quincy so he can remain faithful to our marriage?"

"Gianna! I came here to check out the girl and see who is better between you both. I can only like who can make my family better, right?"

"And you think she will make the family better?"

"Definitely! She has done so much to help Quincy, including risking her life. And she is a very bright girl. She is tough and will not give in to anyone. You don't have all these qualities, Gianna. You just want the title of Mrs. Dylan without going through the hurdles that come with it."

"I can also help Quincy out. Why does he need a courtesan?"

"You can do anything for him?"

"Sure I can!"

"Jesse!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Did you bring the guards?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Let them stay behind. Then bring extra cups."

"Yes, sir!"

Jesse returned with teacups. Fred poured the tea, and Jesse distributed them.

"Drink up!"

"What's in there?"

"Poison!"

Gasps erupted.

"And why should I drink a poison?"

"To help Quincy! His family wealth was hidden away. He needs to pretend to be dead to gain access to the safe. We can't allow Quincy to die, can we? We need you to die in his stead and help him."

"I don't want to die now! I can't drink it."

"It will just make you sleep for a few days, and you will wake up when you get there and help Quincy!"

Harper smiled and calmly gulped the drink. The room went still.

Gianna shrunk back, horrified. "No! I won't take it! I won't! Look at Blue! She already took it—you can take her with you to help Quincy out!"

"Don't you wish to be the one in our family of 3?"

"I don't want to take anything! I'm not drinking it!" she cried.

Quincy stormed over, yanked the cup from her hands, and hurled it across the room.

"Are you stupid, Gianna? You can't even see through a petty trick like this, and you are my wife? Do you consider yourself my wife if you are this slow?"

"He wanted to kill me!"

"It's just a drink."

"There's poison in there!"

"Are you dumb? Harper took the drink. Why is she not dead yet?" he shouted.

Gianna turned—Harper was still smiling calmly.

"You bitch!" Gianna lunged, but Quincy caught her arm.

"Don't be absurd! Guards, take her out."

"How dare you chase me away!"

"You don't belong here, so go!"

"Blue! I'm gonna kill you someday—just watch!" she screamed and stormed out.

"Jesse."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Tell the security to watch out for Gianna. I don't ever wanna see her here."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Not even inside the Shield Hotels."

"Definitely, ma'am."

Fred looked at Harper with a warm, reminiscent smile, the cigarette still resting between his fingers as the smoke curled gently into the air. His voice softened.

"You reminded me of when I met Fransisca… she was so beautiful and graceful. She is the best courtesan here, and I'm so grateful for being blessed with a beautiful wife like this."

Harper's eyes drifted toward Madam Fransisca, who stood composed with a subtle, satisfied smile on her lips. The gentle glow of the chandelier overhead cast a soft shimmer over her figure, enhancing the elegance in Fred's words.

"You must love her so much."

"I do and will always do!" he said, voice brimming with pride. "Even though I have to follow my father's wish and leave Quincy to honor the engagement between us and the Rivers, I would like him to marry the one he loves. But now… he is into someone, and you make him happy. I hope he gains his freedom soon and gets to be with you."

Harper glanced at Quincy. He reached out, brushing his fingers briefly against hers, his expression filled with resolve.

"I hope so, Father. All I wanted is to be with Harper only."

Fred nodded solemnly. "I hope you will find peace. Only when you're in peace will you be in love."

"Thank you, Dad!"

"It's nothing," he said with a calm nod. "You should take your girl back to the penthouse. It's already night."

Quincy turned to Harper with a soft grin. "Let's go, Harper!"

"Yes!"