The sunlight streaming through the windows of the Rodriguez Seattle family estate felt like a mockery to Stefan. Once, this light had illuminated generations of family success. Now, it merely highlighted the dust gathering on furniture that would soon belong to strangers.
Stefan sat alone in his father’s study, nursing a glass of whiskey despite the early hour. The room still smelled of Eduardo’s cigars and leather–bound books, a scent that had once meant security and legacy. The carved mahogany desk where his father had taught him to review shipping manifests seemed smaller now, diminished like everything else in his life.
The sound of tires on gravel jolted him from his stupor. He moved to the window, watching the black town car roll to a stop. His stomach tightened. His parents were home.
Eduardo Rodriguez emerged first, his once–commanding posture now slightly stooped. The past weeks had weathered him visibly. He helped Emily from the car with practiced tenderness, his hand at the small of her back. Stefan’s mother looked thinner, her designer outfit hanging loosely where it once fit perfectly. The Italian retreat meant to shield them from the public humiliation of their family’s downfall had clearly failed to provide sanctuary.
Stefan took a long swallow of whiskey, steeling himself, and strode to the foyer.
“Mother. Father.” His voice echoed in the entrance hall.
Emily’s eyes found his, hardening instantly. “Where is she? That woman who destroyed us?”
No greeting. No embrace. Stefan expected nothing less.
Eduardo sighed heavily, passing their luggage to the remaining housemaid. “Emily, please. Let’s at least sit down first.”
Stefan led them to the sitting room, once the pride of his mother’s decorating prowess. The crystal decanters caught the light as he poured drinks with shaking hands.
“Camille isn’t here,” he answered finally. “She has no reason to be.”
Emily snatched the glass from his offering hand. “She has every reason! To gloat, to witness our suffering. Isn’t that what she wanted?”
“That’s not who she is,” Stefan said quietly.
“Who she is,” Emily spat, “is a vengeful, manipulative….”
“Enough!” Eduardo’s palm struck the side table, rattling the decanters. “Our son betrayed her, Emily. Or have you conveniently forgotten that part?”
The silence that followed felt volatile. Stefan sank into an armchair, suddenly exhausted.
“The board called an emergency meeting,” Eduardo said flatly. “While we were away, they voted to accept Kane Industries‘ offer to purchase our remaining assets.”
Stefan nodded numbly. “I know.”
“You know?” Emily’s voice rose. “And you did nothing to stop it?”
“What would you have me do, Mother? The debt they’ve acquired gives them controlling interest. It was always going to end this way.”
Emily’s face flushed with rage. “This estate has been in the Rodriguez family for four generations! Your great- grandfather built it with his bare hands after arriving with nothing but determination.”
“And I lost it with nothing but arrogance,” Stefan finished bitterly.
Eduardo moved to the window, gazing out at the gardens his wife had meticulously designed. “We have three weeks before we must vacate.”
The finality of those words hung in the air like smoke.
“I tried to speak with Camille,” Stefan admitted. “She wouldn’t reconsider.”
Emily’s laugh was brittle. “Of course she wouldn’t! She’s Victoria Kane’s puppet now. That woman has orchestrated this entire nightmare.”
“No,” Stefan said, meeting his mother’s gaze directly. “Camille orchestrated this. Victoria gave her the tools, but the vision was hers.”
“And you admire her for it?” Emily’s voice dripped with disbelief.
Stefan considered the question. Did he admire Camille for methodically dismantling everything he’d taken for granted? For revealing herself not as a victim but as an architect of justice?
“Yes,” he said finally. “I do.”
Emily’s glass shattered against the wall, amber liquid streaking the custom wallpaper like tears.
“This is what happens when you marry beneath you,” she hissed. “I warned you about her. She was never good enough for this family. No class, just a pretty face with ambition from a rich family.”
Stefan felt something shift inside him, a quiet rage replacing the self–pity he’d wallowed in for weeks.
“Mother,” he said slowly, “if anyone wasn’t good enough, it was me. Camille gave everything to our marriage while I treated her as an accessory. She built herself from nothing through hard work and integrity, while I simply clung to a family name.”
Emily recoiled as if slapped.
“And let’s not forget,” Stefan continued, “how you fawned over Rose. How you practically pushed me into her arms with your constant praise of her sophistication, her fashion sense, her social graces.” His voice grew bitter. ” Her manipulation.”
“Don’t you dare blame your mother for your failings,” Eduardo interjected, but his reprimand lacked conviction. Stefan stood, suddenly unable to remain still. “I don’t. The blame is entirely mine. But I won’t let you rewrite history to make Camille the villain.”
Emily turned away, her shoulders rigid. “She’s ruined us.”
“No, Mother. I ruined us. Rose helped. All Camille did was make us face the consequences.”
Eduardo crossed to the bar and refilled his glass. The silence between them stretched painfully before he spoke again.
“The night before your wedding to Camille,” he said quietly, “I had doubts. Not about her, about you. I wondered if you deserved her devotion.” He took a measured sip. “I should have spoken them aloud.”
“Of course she won’t take you back,” Eduardo scoffed. “Why would she? But there might be a path to redemption that doesn’t involve reconciliation.”
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