THE CASTAWAY HEIR: POWER UNSEEN

CHAPTER 9

Brandon stepped forward without hesitation, his hand closing firmly around Jessica’s shoulder to steady her before she could even sway.

“Mrs. Bennett,” he said, “I expected far better from you. But somehow, you never fail to disappoint the very people who still think you’re capable of decency.”

Ava’s face contorted with fury, but before she could spit out a word, Brandon cut in again—this time sharper.

“And you will not touch her,” he said, pointing at Jessica with cold precision, “nor will you accuse her of spending your family’s money. What money? Please enlighten me. I’d love to hear this unbelievable fiction you’ve created.”

“How dare you?” Ava exploded, swinging her hand up toward his face.

But Brandon caught her wrist mid-air—effortlessly—like she was nothing more than a child throwing a tantrum.

“Don’t,” he warned, his grip steady, “even try it.”

Ava jerked back in outrage, shaking with disbelief.

“Oh, really?! So now you’ve grown wings? After all your little escapades with women, you think you can speak to me this way?”

Her fury then snapped toward Jessica like a whip.

Her eyes narrowed and her lips curled.

“You cheap slut! You’re the one who twisted his head, aren’t you?!”

The room fell silent.

Jessica’s cheeks were red with anger, but her voice stayed firm and unwavering.

“Don’t you ever address me like that,” she said, stepping forward instead of shrinking back.

“One would expect more dignity from a woman your age. At the very least, verify your claims before embarrassing yourself.”

Her tone sharpened, each sentence landing like a slap.

“Mr. Scott brought me here to see an apartment. I needed a place. He thought this one might work. That’s all. So tell me—why twist it into something filthy when it isn’t?”

Ava froze for a beat then she burst into laughter.

Loud, mocking laughter that made the women clustered behind her exchange uneasy looks.

“An apartment?”

She wiped the corner of her eye dramatically, then turned her gaze back on Jessica with pure derision.

“It's a pity you’ve got little sense in that head. This fool here is nothing but a kicked-out loser. Do you think someone like him could ever afford a place in this hotel? Don’t make me laugh harder—I’ll just choke.”

Her friends chuckled, nodding their heads in support. How could a nobody like Brandon afford such a place?

“Now, if you want to see what a real son-in-law can provide, wait until you see what my Ryan, my daughter’s fiance, has arranged. An entire apartment—spacious, elegant, everything a young couple could want. And of course,” she added sweetly, pretending to be modest,

“I told him not to go overboard. My daughter isn’t the kind who cares about riches. Just enough for the two of them to live comfortably would do. But Ryan—oh, he’s so filial—he insisted I must move in too, so he can look after me properly.”

Ava’s friends who were standing behind her nodded, echoing her words like a chorus.

“That’s what a real son-in-law looks like—so thoughtful.”

“Not some kind of trash."

"Sophia’s so lucky to have someone like Ryan.”

“Truly a blessing for your family, Ava.”

Jessica felt heat rise in her chest as words of protest were at the tip of her tongue.

She wanted to shut Ava and let her know that Brandon was a real man and he had truly helped her.

But before she could open her mouth, Brandon gave a small shake of his head, urging her not to bother.

“Come,” he murmured, guiding her gently toward the elevator.

Jessica followed reluctantly, biting back her words though her pride burned.

The elevator doors closed with a soft chime, silencing Ava’s laughter.

Behind them, Ava crossed her arms smugly.

To her, their retreat looked like defeat, and she seized the moment to crow louder.

“You little brat! You got lucky this time. Next time, I’ll tear your skin off!” she shouted after Brandon, her voice carrying down the hall.

---

“Honestly, Ava,” Helena, one of her friends muttered once the elevator was gone.

“I'm proud of you. That piece of trash needed yo be put in his place."

Doris chimed in, softer: “And to think that he's begun flirting. He's such an ingrate!"

"Thank God he's divorced from your daughter. He's simply good riddance to bad rubbish!" Marjorie chimed in.

Ava’s smile didn’t falter. She simply flipped her hair over her shoulder.

“Suee. He's so useless! He clung to my daughter like a leech for years, and now that she’s moved on, he thinks he can walk around with another woman as though nothing happened? Not under my watch! I'll make sure I strip him of everything he has left that deceives him that he's some human.”

“Anyway,” she went on, pulling a sleek key card from her handbag.

“You’re all here to see the place Ryan has prepared, aren’t you? Come, follow me. But don’t expect anything too extravagant—it’s just a place to sleep, really. I’ve told Ryan again and again not to waste money."

The women murmured in admiration.

“You’re so modest, Ava.”

“So considerate, unlike others.”

“And Ryan insisting you move in too—what a dutiful son-in-law.”

Ava smiled graciously, soaking in the praise as though it were sunlight.

She strolled up to the door at the end of the corridor and slid the key card through the reader with a flourish.

Nothing happened, instead the light blinked red.

Her brow furrowed slightly. “These electronic things,” she said with a brittle laugh, swiping it again.

Still nothing.

She tried a third time and a fourth. But there was still nothing.

Her friends shifted uncomfortably, exchanging uneasy glances.

“Ava, are you sure this is the right card?” Helena asked hesitantly.

“Of course it is!” Ava snapped.

She swiped again, harder this time and her hand trembled impatiently. Still, the light flashed red.

Her cheeks flushed hot. She bent down, tried a different angle and muttered curses under her breath. And then—

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

A shrill alarm exploded in the corridor, piercing the air like a siren.

Red lights began to flash along the ceiling.

Ava froze.

She hadn’t unlocked the door, so she triggered the building’s security system.

“What did you do?!” Marjorie, one of her friends gasped, clutching her handbag to her chest.

“I—I don’t know!” Ava stammered. “It must be the card reader—something’s wrong with it—”

But her voice was drowned out by the blaring siren. Panic rippled through the group.

“We should go,” Helena whispered urgently. “Before anyone comes.”

“Yes, let’s slip away,” Doris agreed, already edging down the hall.

But before they could flee, the pounding of boots echoed, and security officers rounded the corner at full speed with raised batons and eyes sharp.

“You there!” one barked.

“Step away from the door! Now!”

The women froze mid-step and their faces drained of color.

Ava, however, forced herself forward, her voice trembling with false confidence.

“This is all a misunderstanding,” she said quickly, waving the key card as though it proved her innocence.

“I was just—just opening the apartment my son-in-law prepared for us. Ryan Cooper, you must know the name—”

“Ma’am, trespassing is a serious violation,” the guard cut her off.

“Step back. All of you against the wall!”

“We’re not trespassing!” Ava protested, her voice rising with desperation. “I told you, this is my family’s suite! Call Ryan! Call him right now!”

But the guards were unmoved.

Their training left no room for excuses, no matter how shrill. They raised their batons threateningly, their expressions cold.

“Against the wall. Squat down!”

Ava’s face drained of all color.

“Squat?” she echoed, her voice faltering.

“Do you know who you’re talking to?”

The guard’s eyes narrowed. “I said, squat down. Now!”