Ninety-Two Days Before the Ice

The Gate

At the words twelve million dollars, all three Stowes discovered a remarkable burst of energy.

Michael and Henry reached the villa first, only to find a crowd already gathered outside.

The property sat behind an elegant wrought-iron fence, with a manicured lawn between the street and the house. Since no one could get in, the neighbors had pressed along the bars, craning their necks for a better look.

"Michael!" someone shouted with excitement. "Your family really made it this time!"

"You lucky dog. Where did Lexi find a husband like that?"

"Seriously, Michael, you never told us Rhys was loaded!"

Michael's face darkened with every word.

Beside him, Henry stared up at the house with a naked greed in his eyes. Unable to wait a second longer, he marched up to the gate and pounded on it furiously.

"RHYS! GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE!"

Inside the villa, Rhys glanced at the security feed and chuckled.

Of course they were here. They were so predictable.

He stood up unhurriedly. He had no reason to avoid them. If anything, he was happy to let them see exactly what they had lost.

He crossed the lawn and opened the gate and Henry lunged the moment it swung wide. "You son of a..."

Rhys stepped into his path.

Henry lowered his shoulder and shoved, but no matter how hard he pushed, Rhys did not budge. For all his size, Henry had spent years eating, drinking, gambling, and avoiding anything resembling work. Against Rhys, he might as well have been pushing a wall.

"What the hell is this?" Michael barked. "Move!"

"You're not coming in." Rhys said flatly.

"You bought this place with our family's money, and now you won't even let us through the gate?"

Rhys looked him in the eye. "Did you forget? Lexi and I are divorced. This is my house. What does it have to do with the Stowes?"

Divorced.

 The word rippled through the crowd. Several women perked up at once. If Rhys was single, then their daughters had a chance. Imagine marrying him and moving the whole family into a villa like this!

"You think I'm stupid?" Michael jabbed a finger at him. "You divorced my daughter the day before yesterday and bought a twelve-million-dollar house yesterday. Where did the money come from? You had it while you were still married to Lexi. That makes it marital property!"

The crowd fell quiet. It was, actually, a very good question.

Rhys only smiled.

"Property is divided by evidence, Michael, not because an old man barks at my gate. If Lexi thinks she owns half of this place, tell her to hire a lawyer." He took out his phone. "Until then, this is private property. Leave, or I'll call the police. Trespassing will buy you a few weeks in a cell."

At the word police, Michael's bravado faltered. He took a step back.

Leave? Never. In his mind, this house was already his.

Before he could charge again, a shrill voice cut through the crowd.

"RHYS!"

Britt came stumbling into view with Chris in tow, gasping from the run.

"You heartless bastard!" She slapped her thigh and began to wail. "My daughter wasted nine years on you! Nine years! And the second you get rich, you throw her away and abandon your own child?"

Chris, who understood none of it, clung to her sleeve. She pulled him into a theatrical hug. "Look at this poor boy! His father buys a mansion while his son is thrown out on the street!"

She only meant to smear Rhys. But without context, the story sounded convincing. Rhys had gotten rich, he had divorced Lexi and he had walked away from a child he'd raised for eight years.

Murmurs rose from the crowd instantly and their judging eyes turned toward him. Rhys had been waiting for exactly this.

He wanted the Stowes' reputation shattered. He wanted them to become pariahs on the very street where they had lorded it over everyone for years.

"You want to know why I divorced Lexi?"

He didn't raise his voice, but the calm in it silenced the crowd, one face at a time.

"Because Chris isn't my son."

The crowd froze, a dead silence spreading over them like a graveyard. Rhys let the tension and shock in the air sink in.

"Lexi was already pregnant with another man's child when she married me. She needed a husband to cover for her, so she chose me. And for eight years she let me believe he was mine."

Michael and Britt went rigid. This, clearly, was news to them too.

"You want to talk about nine years? I worked all day, then came home and cooked for you, cleaned for you, drove you everywhere, fixed everything you broke, and handed over almost every dollar I earned,” he scoffed.

“You ate the food I paid for. You lived in the house my parents left me. You spent my money. And after all of it, you still treated me like your servant. Meanwhile, Lexi was sleeping with Chris's real father behind my back."

The crowd erupted.

"She cheated on him the whole time?"

"Doesn't this family believe in karma?"

"And Britt has the nerve to play the victim!"

The looks aimed at the Stowes changed in an instant. Whatever sympathy they'd had moments ago vanished, replaced by open disgust.

"No!" Britt finally found her voice. "That's a lie! Lexi would never..."

Rhys gave her a cold smile and raised his phone. "Then, should I show everyone the videos?"

He did have enough evidence to prove the affair and Chris's paternity. The videos, however, were mostly a bluff.

But the Stowes had no way of knowing that. And none of them wanted to risk calling it anyway. If Rhys played a single clip in front of the whole neighborhood, they would never be able to show their faces in Maple Grove again.

"Let's go," Britt hissed, grabbing her husband's and son's sleeves.

Henry jabbed a finger at Rhys, his face purple. "This isn't over! When our lawyer's done with you, you'll be sleeping on the sidewalk!"

Then the Stowes turned and fled up the street under a hundred stares.

The crowd drifted apart, buzzing with the news. Rhys closed the gate and stood alone on the lawn, watching them go.

Sleeping on the sidewalk.

He almost smiled. In eighty-nine days, Henry would learn what it truly meant to sleep outside. And there would be nobody at the gate to let him in.