Chapter 167 Hopes Diminished
Melissa was a tempest of fury. Only days prior, she had been a beacon of warmth and kindness to Winona, preparing meals with a devotion that was palpable. Now, however, her demeanor had undergone a dramatic transformation, as if a switch had been flipped.
Zachary Bailey's face bore an expression of profound solemnity, a sight that caused Isaac's skin to prickle with unease. "Enough," he interjected, his voice a quiet command. "Cease your speech."
Melissa's anger flared at her husband's seemingly submissive attitude. "Why must you be so spineless?" she retorted, shaking off his restraining hand.
"Consider this," she continued, her voice laced with bitterness. "Ever since the old man's grave was relocated here two years ago, have you not noticed the improvement in your business fortunes? You dream of driving a Mercedes, but without his influence, you'd be lucky to be driving a tractor!"
Her words ignited the smoldering anger within Zachary Bailey. "I'm unsure how the past two years have been for you," he retorted, "but heed my words—if you provoke me, I will ensure the remainder of your days are far from smooth."
His tone was steady, but the underlying threat sent a shiver of apprehension down the listener's spine.
Melissa's anger was quickly extinguished by his icy calm.
"Dad's been at rest here for two years. He's likely grown accustomed to the tranquility, perhaps even enjoys it. To hastily move the grave might disturb his peace," she suggested, treading carefully around Zachary Bailey.
Zachary's response was heavy with sarcasm. "An excellent point, Melissa. Perhaps you should discuss it with Grandpa? He can inform me of any objections in a dream."
Following their visit to the cemetery, the group made their way to Isaac’s home to collect their belongings. Justin was engrossed in a video game, but he quickly discarded his phone at the sight of them emerging with suitcases.
"You're all leaving for New York already? Not going to extend your stay?" he queried.
"Wait a moment! I still need to pack," Justin exclaimed, hastily stuffing items into his suitcase. "Why the sudden rush? You could’ve informed me earlier; I had a gaming session scheduled with friends."
He was in the midst of packing when the sound of doors opening and closing reached his ears from outside.
Rushing out, Justin discovered that Winona Sullivan and the others had already departed. His parents stood in their place, their faces etched with seriousness.
Resolving the issue of the grave was not going to be a simple task. With other pressing matters occupying her thoughts, Winona found herself unable to spend another day in Silverton.
She booked the earliest flight back to New York. Upon landing, she immediately dialed Carlos. "Dad, where are you?"
Carlos had been living in fear of his mounting debts, the old terror of being pursued by loan sharks resurfacing. Winona’s call was a lifeline to him, yet his voice was tinged with anger. "If you refuse to facilitate a match between Layla and Zachary, then don't refer to me as 'Dad.' As far as I'm concerned, I have no daughter!"
Winona Sullivan paused briefly before responding, "Alright, where are you now?"
"Sullivan residence," Carlos tersely replied before abruptly ending the call, his agitation evident.
Upon her departure from the airport, Winona made a beeline for the taxi station. However, Zachary Bailey intercepted her, his hand closing around hers. "Allow me to drive you," he offered.
Meanwhile, Brian had already secured his arrival, patiently lingering in the subterranean parking lot.
Winona's gaze fell to their intertwined hands, her attention drawn to the appealing length and definition of Zachary's fingers. His grasp was solid, a comforting presence that she could easily grow reliant on, particularly in her current state of emotional turmoil. The revelation that the man she had affectionately referred to as 'Dad' for over two decades might not share her bloodline was a jarring one, impossible to dismiss with indifference.
She yearned for a companion, someone to support her through this tumultuous period. Once, she had envisioned Zachary Bailey fulfilling that role. Now, she would accept anyone but him.
With a firm resolve, Winona gently extricated her hand from Zachary's grip. "That won't be necessary," she declined.
Noticing Matthew Watson nearby, poised to interject, she quickly added, "This is a family matter. I wish to handle it independently."
Zachary scrutinized her features for a moment before his phone vibrated, drawing his attention. A glance at the caller ID later, he conceded, "Very well." He then pivoted and made his way towards the lower-level parking lot.
Matthew tenderly patted the top of Winona's head, his voice brimming with concern. "Stay safe, and don't hesitate to call me if you need anything."
The Sullivan family estate, nestled next to a man-made lake, was the first property seized when Carlos ceased his financial support. Despite not having visited in three years, Winona had no trouble locating the Sullivan mansion amidst the cluster of neighboring residences.
The garden was a riot of color, roses in full bloom sprawling over the trellises, their purple petals strewn across the ground.
Without hesitation, Winona approached the front door and rang the bell. The servant who answered was a stranger, unfamiliar with her identity. "May I inquire who you're seeking?" he asked.
"Carlos. We have an appointment," she responded.
As she spoke, Carlos materialized from within the house, his expression souring. "Not addressing me as 'Dad' anymore? Where have your manners gone?"
Recognizing the visitor as the young Miss Sullivan, the servant hastily swung the door wide open.
Winona hesitated on the threshold. This house, once belonged to her mother, had been systematically stripped of any trace of her presence by her stepmother, even the decor remodeled until it was unrecognizable.
The total obliteration of the past lent an unsettling air to the familiar yet alien setting. Despite this, with her mind teeming with unanswered questions, Winona steeled herself and stepped inside.
A maid was in the process of brewing rose tea—Layla's preferred choice—though Winona had a fondness for fruit teas. She observed the petals unfurling in the boiling water, keeping her thoughts to herself.
Carlos cast a glance in her direction. "Did you consult Zachary?"
"I was in Silverton a few days ago," she replied.
The mere mention of Silverton elicited a frown and a flicker of distaste on his face. He managed a half-hearted, "How's everyone's health there?"
"Everyone's well," Winona responded, her gaze locked on Carlos. She didn't overlook his brief display of aversion. What could have transpired to provoke such a reaction to his hometown?
She had spent her entire life in New York, as far as she could remember. Her father had never revisited Silverton, which she had initially found unremarkable since both families' elders resided in New York. Now, however, she found herself questioning why he never returned, despite having siblings, relatives, and friends there.
Given the strained dynamics of their relationship, there was no room for subtlety. Winona decided to confront the matter head-on. "Dad, I'm not your biological daughter, am I?"
Caught off guard by her question, Carlos, who had been preoccupied with mediating between Layla and Zachary Bailey, could only stare at her in shock. His pupils dilated, swiftly followed by a surge of anger. "What nonsense are you spouting?" he retorted.
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