Author: M.U.D

2025-06-16 22:24:36

"Don't listen to him, Father!" Tony, William’s cousin and the guy who got married to Caleb's girlfriend, roared, stepping forward, his eyes blazing with contempt. "He's nothing but a scheming opportunist! Caleb will do anything for money, he’s a scammer, a leech trying to cling to any wealth he can find. He’s probably cooked this whole thing up just to get a piece of the Reed fortune!" tony’s voice was laced with venom, his accusations echoing through the suddenly tense silence. "He's a con artist, plain and simple, always has been!"

Tony continued .. "He'll do anything for money! He's just a common delivery boy who extorts money from desperate women!"

Caleb clenched his fists, resisting the urge to strike.

"Don't worry," Tony continued, a venomous smile. "I'll make sure he learns his place this time and not ruin your engagement cousin." He responded to Leo, He raised his hand, aiming for Caleb's neck.

Just as Tony's palm descended, a blur. Mr. Callahan himself moved, catching Tony's wrist in an iron grip. "Enough, Tony," his voice was cold, sharp. He held Tony's arm, his gaze fixed on Caleb. He then slowly, deliberately, brought out the locket he had been holding.

"Whose necklace is this?" Mr. Callahan's voice was calm, but it held an undeniable authority that silenced Tony instantly. Everyone's gaze shifted to the locket.

Diana looked at Caleb, then back at the locket in Mr. Callahan's hand. She pointed at Caleb. "Is this not your necklace?, how did it get to Mr Callahan?." The necklace fell down during Tony and Caleb's argument, Mr Robert Callahan's assistant saw it and thought it belonged to his boss and gave it to him.

Immediately, Caleb’s eyes locked onto the locket. He lunged forward, a desperate need filling him, trying to snatch it from Mr. Callahan's grasp. But Mr. Callahan held it back, his grip firm.

"Where did you get this necklace from?" Mr. Callahan asked again, his gaze piercing. His voice was no longer calm, but held a raw intensity.

Caleb hesitated, a wall of privacy rising within him. "It's supposed to be private," he mumbled, his voice tight, his eyes fixed on the locket.

He instinctively reached for it. "Give that back!"

"If you don't answer me, I will break this." He held the delicate chain between his fingers, threatening to snap it. Tony started to call his name, but Mr. Callahan ignored him.

As Mr. Callahan's fingers tightened, Caleb spoke, his voice hoarse. "It belonged to my late mother."

Mr. Callahan's body stiffened. His eyes widened. "How do you know? Who gave it to you?"

"Mrs. Laura did," Caleb said. "My adopted mother."

At the mention of "Mrs. Laura," Richard, Mr. Callahan's assistant, who had been standing silently by, stiffened imperceptibly. A flicker of recognition crossed his face, quickly masked. He made a subtle gesture to one of the nearby staff.

Mr. Callahan looked at Caleb for a long moment, his expression unreadable. He slowly released the necklace. "Alright." His voice was calmer now, almost too calm. "It seems this meeting has taken an unexpected turn. Mr. Reed, perhaps I should take my leave."

Mr. Reed nodded, still processing the shock. "Indeed, Richard."

As Caleb picked up his necklace, Richard casually approached the table where Caleb had stood. He picked up a discarded wine glass, one Caleb had used, and subtly wrapped it in a napkin. His eyes met Mr. Callahan's, a silent, knowing exchange passing between them.

Weeks later, the city dust still clinging to his shoes, Caleb was on a side street, handing out flyers for a new juice bar. His bruised ribs had healed, but the sting of recent memories hadn't. A sleek, black limousine pulled up beside the curb, silent as a shadow. The back door opened. Richard, Mr. Callahan's assistant, stepped out.

"Come with me, Caleb Blake," Richard said, his voice flat. "Your attention is needed at the Callahan Estate."

Caleb balled the flyers in his hand. "Needed? For what? I'm busy." He gestured to the stack in his arms.

"This isn't a request," Richard said, a flicker of impatience in his eyes. "It's an… invitation. From Mr. Callahan himself."

Caleb scowled. He remembered the humiliation, the snap of his chain. "I have nothing to do with the Callahan's. I'm not going anywhere."

Richard sighed, pulling out a slim tablet. "Very well. But understand, Mr. Blake Smith, what is happening concerns you directly. More directly than you can imagine." He pointed to a screen on the tablet, showing a series of complex legal documents, then a faded photograph, unmistakably of a young woman holding a baby. Caleb’s breath hitched. His pendant. His mother.

"What is this?" Caleb demanded, stepping closer.

"It's about your past," Richard said. "A past Mr. Callahan believes he knows something about, and I know how long you've been wanting to know about your past. Now, are you coming?"

Caleb stared at the image, then at Richard's impassive face. His mind raced. He had no job. No real future. And suddenly, a thread to his lost identity. "Fine," he muttered, dropping the flyers. He entered the limousine. The door shut, sealing him into an unfamiliar world.

The limousine glided through the Callahan Estate gates, a silent shadow cutting through the manicured night. Caleb felt the plush leather seats beneath him, the unfamiliar quiet of immense wealth. The door opened. Richard, Mr. Callahan's assistant, stood there.

"When will you give me a clue about my identity?" Caleb asked, stepping out. "Or is this some kind of prank?"

Richard's face gave nothing away. "You'll know when you meet Mr. Callahan."

Caleb clenched his jaw. Mr. Callahan. The last person he wanted to see. Even with Diana's promise to help him find his family, Caleb wanted answers himself. Even a tiny clue felt better than leaning on someone else. As they walked towards the office, Caleb couldn't help but stare. The Callahan Estate was a masterpiece. Every detail, from the polished marble floors to the intricate carvings, spoke of boundless wealth and refined taste.

"If I were Cathy, I would've left me for him too," Caleb muttered under his breath.

"We're here," Richard said, a soft knock preceding the opening of a heavy door.

Mr. Callahan sat behind a grand mahogany desk, a figure of calm expectation. The look on his face now was different from the cold authority at the engagement meeting. Something softer, almost fragile, flickered in his eyes

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96
The study was dimly lit, filled with the scent of old paper and something faintly smoky—perhaps from the fireplace that hadn’t been used in weeks. Mr. Callahan’s fingers hovered over a stack of albums tucked into the bottom shelf. He slowly pulled one out, a leather-bound photo album already frayed at the edges from too much handling over the years.Arthur stood at the doorway, unsure whether to step back or remain still. He had come to return a book to Mr. Callahan, but the conversation had taken a strange turn.Mr. Callahan opened a page, eyes softening at a photograph. His voice, when it came, was quiet, almost to himself.“What? That was where my son died.”Arthur shifted. “Sir?”Mr. Callahan turned the photo album around and pointed to a burned structure in a picture. It was taken long ago, probably by the press or police. “That was the place,” he said, then reached into a drawer and brought out a framed photograph.He handed it to Arthur.Arthur took it carefully, glancing down
95
The room was quiet. The breeze from the open window lifted the curtains gently, casting strips of sunlight across Arthur’s face as he stood in quiet contemplation. A towel rested on his shoulder he had just finished cleaning and his eyes were fixed on the floor, yet his thoughts were elsewhere, deeper than the surface he stood on.“I think I need to go back home for some time,” he murmured to himself, voice low and heavy. “I need to explain better to them that I didn't run away from home. I just needed to find my way around... and try to go back to living my life, not depending on my family.”It wasn’t guilt that weighed him down. It was something heavier—an unshakable sense of unfinished business. And perhaps, somewhere deep inside, it was the echo of a life he hadn’t fully remembered.Wiping his hands one last time, he folded the towel and draped it over his shoulder before walking out. His steps were slow, deliberate, as he made his way to Mr. Callahan’s office. He reached the door
94
The Callahan mansion had never truly known silence not even in grief. There was always movement, whispers, or the quiet hum of Jasper’s laughter. But that morning, as the sun crept past the marble pillars and into the drawing room, everything felt… paused.Diana wasn’t downstairs yet. Richard and Mr. Callahan sat by the large window, reading reports in silence. K.J. was away on business. Daphne had just stepped out for a call. The only sound was the distant ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece.Then, a knock.Three slow, firm knocks.The butler opened the door and paused. His eyebrows arched as he stepped aside for the guest to enter.A man with strands of greying hair stepped in broad-shouldered, tall, his presence oddly commanding despite the humble coat he wore. His eyes scanned the room, but there was no hesitation in his steps as he walked directly toward Mr. Callahan.Richard stood up first. “Can we help you?”Mr. Callahan squinted at the man, the wrinkles on his face tighten
93
The sun was barely up when Arthur packed a bag and left the compound.He didn’t say a word to Diego. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Not yet.There was no plan, just a pull in his chest that refused to loosen. The boy from yesterday, the strange stares, the woman’s laugh—it had cracked something open. He couldn’t pretend anymore. Something was missing. And if no one was going to give him answers, then he would find them himself.He’d seen the notice on a worn-out bulletin board two towns over. Now Hiring: Callahan Mansion. In need of full-time domestic help. ID Required. It was simple enough. A name, a few lies, and he could walk right into the home that tugged at something deep inside him. He didn’t know why, but it felt like the answers were there. Something was waiting for him inside that house.Maybe someone.Maybe himself.****Later That Day Callahan MansionThe Callahan estate was alive with quiet movement. Diana had resumed working part-time at the hospital, and Jasper had grown into a st
92
Morning came too quickly.Arthur sat at the edge of his bed, staring out the window at the dew-covered fields. Birds chirped in the distance, the sun barely above the horizon. It should’ve been peaceful—but inside him, everything felt restless.He couldn’t stop thinking about yesterday. About that woman’s laugh. The man’s eyes. The kid’s smile. All of it kept looping in his head like a song he couldn’t get rid of. He barely slept.There was no reason for it to bother him so much. No logical explanation for why complete strangers had made his chest tighten like that. He told himself it was just déjà vu, like Diego said. Just some scrambled memory flashing through his broken mind.But that didn’t make it go away.Downstairs, Diego was already in the kitchen, slicing fruit and making tea like he did every morning. When Arthur walked in, his uncle looked up with a small smile.“Didn’t hear you come down,” Diego said.“Didn’t sleep much,” Arthur replied, pulling out a chair and sitting at
91
The sun was nearly gone, casting long shadows over the quiet compound. Arthur walked slowly toward the main house, his shoulders heavy, his face tense like something was stuck in his chest that he couldn’t quite shake off. He found his uncle in the study, a book open in his lap. Diego noticed the look on his nephew’s face immediately."You look like your thoughts are chewing you up," Diego said, closing the book. "Rough day?"Arthur let out a long sigh, brushing his hand over his forehead like he was trying to wipe the feeling off his skin. "The day itself was fine. I fixed the fence. The woman was happy with the work." He paused and looked at his bruised hands. "But something happened when I was leaving. I saw a woman, a man, and a little boy. Just standing there across the road."Diego raised an eyebrow. "And?""I don’t know what it was," Arthur said, frustration creeping into his voice. "I just… the woman’s laugh it felt like I’d heard it before. The man looked at me like he knew m

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