The grand living room of Kenneth Holloway's mansion felt like it was holding its breath. Chandeliers bathed everything in golden light, but there was no warmth left in the room—only a heavy grief that loomed over everyone like an ominous presence.
Eliana Bennett knelt beside her father, Frank, clutching his trembling hand in both of hers. Tears clung to her lashes as she looked around at the silent domestic staff, the stiff security guards, and then at them—the strangers who had just barged into their world without warning. Kenneth's children.
At the front stood the eldest, Williams Holloway, his jaw clenched so tight it looked like it might shatter, cold gray eyes scanning the room like he was already bored. Beside him was Margaret, draped in a crimson dress that probably cost more than Eliana's entire life savings. Her sharp features were set in stone, unreadable. Then there was Evelyn, with her sleek blonde bob and lips pursed in permanent disapproval, as though the scent of grief itself offended her. And finally, Thomas. The youngest, with a smirk that danced across his face like a flickering flame—half amusement, half threat.
They stood shoulder to shoulder, their expensive clothes gleaming under the chandelier light, looking less like a grieving family and more like a corporate army ready to seize control. It was as if they'd stepped straight out of a boardroom and into a tragedy, and Eliana could already feel the storm they brought with them gathering at her feet.
Behind them stood a wiry man in a pinstripe suit, adjusting his glasses, his briefcase clutched like a weapon. He cleared his throat, his voice breaking the stunned silence. "I am Mr. Harold Grayson, attorney to the Holloway family. My clients, the rightful heirs of Kenneth Holloway, have asked me to oversee the immediate transition of this estate."
Eliana's heart stuttered. Transition? Her gaze flicked to her father, whose gaunt face had gone ashen, his frail frame trembling under the weight of the words. The room seemed to shrink, the luxurious walls closing in as the lawyer's voice droned on. "This property, along with all associated assets, now belongs solely to Mr. Holloway's children. As such, all non-essential personnel—security, domestic staff, and… others—are to vacate the premises immediately."
A collective gasp rippled through the room. The maids clutched their aprons, their whispers rising like a tide. The security guards stiffened, exchanging uneasy glances. Eliana's breath caught in her throat, her mind reeling. Vacate? She tightened her grip on her father's hand, her voice only a whisper. "Papa, what's happening?"
Frank's eyes, red-rimmed and hollow, met hers. "Eliana, I—" His voice cracked, and he shook his head, unable to finish.
Williams Holloway stepped forward, his polished shoes clicking ominously on the marble floor. His graying temples caught the light as he surveyed the room with the cold detachment of a predator. "Let me make this clear," he said, his voice low and venomous. "It has come to our notice that you, Frank Bennett, and your daughter, Eliana, have been leeching off our father for years. An old, senile man, easily manipulated by your sob stories. We know exactly what you've been doing, and we will not stand for it."
Eliana's jaw dropped, her heart slamming against her ribs. "Leeching?" she whispered, the word tasting like ash. She rose to her feet, her slender frame trembling with a mix of grief and fury. "How dare you? Grandpa Kenneth was family to us! He loved us, and we loved him! We never asked for anything—"
"Save your breath," Margaret cut in, her crimson lips curling into a sneer. "Our father was a fool to let you anywhere near him. You think you're part of this family? You're nothing but parasites."
Frank struggled to his feet, his thin shoulders squared despite the tremor in his hands. "Please," he said, his voice hoarse but steady. "Your father just died. His ashes… it's barely cold. Can't we honor him first? Bury him, mourn him, before you tear everything apart? We can talk about this later, when—"
"When what?" Evelyn snapped, her blonde bob swaying as she leaned forward. "When you've had time to siphon off more of his fortune? No. This ends now."
Eliana's vision blurred with tears, her chest heaving as she tried to find words. "You don't understand," she said, her voice breaking. "Kenneth took us in when we had nothing. He gave us a home, a purpose. He was my grandfather, not just your father. He—"
"That's enough!" Williams barked, his voice echoing like a gunshot. He turned to the lawyer, his eyes glinting with malice. "Mr. Grayson, proceed."
Before Eliana could protest further, the double doors of the living room burst open, and a group of fifteen to twenty burly men in dark suits stormed in. Their boots thudded against the marble, their faces expressionless but their intent clear. The room erupted into chaos—maids screamed, security guards shouted, and the air filled with the cacophony of panic.
"Get them out," Thomas said, his smirk widening as he waved a hand lazily. "All of them. Now."
The hefty men moved like a swarm, grabbing arms and shoving bodies toward the exit. A maid sobbed as she was dragged away, her apron slipping to the floor. A security guard tried to stand his ground, only to be pushed back with a forceful shove. Eliana's heart raced as one of the men loomed over her, his meaty hand reaching for her arm.
"Don't you dare touch me!" Sarai's voice broke through the chaos, sharp and commanding. She stood tall, her glossy black hair gleaming in its sleek bun, her designer heels planted firmly on the floor. "I can walk myself out, thank you very much." Her green eyes flashed with defiance, but there was something else there—a flicker of satisfaction, a secret delight that no one else seemed to notice. She smoothed her dress and sauntered toward the door, her chin held high.
Jason, meanwhile, was not so composed. As one of the men grabbed his arm, he jerked free, his hazel eyes blazing. "Get your hands off me!" he shouted, swinging a fist that connected with the man's jaw. The guard staggered back, but two more closed in, their faces unyielding. "You think you can just throw us out like trash?" Jason snarled, his blonde hair falling into his eyes as he squared his shoulders. "This is bullshit!"
Eliana barely registered the commotion. Her world had narrowed to the sight of her father, frail and trembling, as two men grabbed his arms. "No!" she screamed, lunging forward. "Don't touch him! He's sick!" But her pleas were drowned out by the chaos. Rough hands seized her, dragging her toward the towering entrance. She kicked and twisted, her flats slipping on the marble, her curls bouncing wildly. "Papa!" she cried, her voice raw with desperation.
Frank stumbled as he was pushed forward, his thin frame no match for the men's strength. "Eliana!" he called, his voice breaking. "Stay calm, sweetheart. We'll figure this out."
The grand doors loomed ahead, the night air rushing in as they were shoved outside. The gravel crunched underfoot, the cold biting at Eliana's skin through her thin dress. The domestic staff huddled together, some sobbing, others cursing under their breath. The security guards stood in a defeated line, their radios silent.
Jason appeared at Eliana's side, his jaw clenched as he grabbed her hand. "Come on," he said, his voice tight with anger. "You and Frank, get in my car. We're getting out of here."
Sarai was already at the car, her arms crossed, her face emotionless. She slid into the front passenger seat without a word, her silence unnervingly out of character. Eliana helped her father into the backseat, her hands shaking as she buckled his seatbelt. "It's okay, Papa," she whispered, though her voice trembled. "We'll be okay."
Jason slammed the driver's door and peeled out of the driveway, the tires screeching as the mansion's gates faded into the distance. The city lights blurred past, a dizzying dance of neon and shadow. Frank leaned back, his breathing ragged. "Thank you, Jason," he said, his voice sounding really small. "You didn't have to help us."
Jason's grip tightened on the steering wheel, his knuckles strained. "Those people are jerks," he said, his tone sharp. "I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding. It'll all blow over soon, Frank. You'll see."
Eliana stared out the window, her heart a tangled mess of grief and betrayal. Jason's hazel eyes rested on hers for a few seconds through the rear view mirror, warm and reassuring, but it did little to ease the ache in her chest. "Don't worry, El," he said softly, "I've got you."
Sarai remained silent, her gaze fixed on the road ahead, her lips pressed into a thin line. The car was heavy with unspoken words, the tension thick enough to choke on.
Frank sighed, rubbing his temples. "Jason, can you drop me at my supermarket? I need to grab a few things. Clear my head."
"Sure thing," Jason said, his voice steady. "No problem."
The drive to Frank's supermarket was a blur, the city lights fading into the familiar glow of the small strip mall. But as they pulled into the parking lot, Eliana's stomach dropped. A crowd had gathered outside—staff in their green aprons, customers clutching reusable bags, all staring at the store with wide, disbelieving eyes. At the entrance, a line of hefty men in dark suits blocked the doors, their arms crossed, their faces as impassive as stone.
Frank's breath hitched. "What the hell…" He fumbled with the door handle, his movements frantic. Eliana followed, her heart sinking as she stepped out of the car. The cold night air stung her tear-streaked cheeks, and the weight of the day crashed over her like a bus.
"Papa," she whispered, her voice trembling as she grabbed his arm. "What's happening?"
Frank didn't answer. His eyes were fixed on the supermarket—his life's work, his pride—now guarded like a fortress. The crowd's murmurs grew louder, a chorus of confusion and anger. Eliana's pulse raced, her mind spinning with questions. First Kenneth's death, then the eviction, and now this? What was happening to their world?
The car door slammed behind them as Jason and Sarai stepped out, their silhouettes stark against the neon glow. The night felt alive with secrets, and Eliana's heart pounded with the certainty that nothing would ever be the same.