THE TRILLIONAIRE'S WRATH: RISE OF THE FALLEN SON-IN-LAW

CHAPTER 010: The Unwanted Guest

The clock in the grand hallway struck midnight. The sound echoed through the house like a death knell. Henry and Bernadette were slumped in the living room, surrounded by empty wine bottles and half-packed suitcases. The lights were dim, and the air was heavy with the smell of expensive gin and failure.

"We can still fix this," Henry muttered, his voice raspy. "We have the offshore accounts. We can move the money before the bank sees."

"With what time, Henry?" Bernadette snapped. She looked at her chipped nails. "The Chairman bought our debt. He owns the walls. He owns the floor. He probably owns the air we’re breathing right now."

The front door opened.

There was no knock. There was no polite greeting. Just the heavy, rhythmic sound of boots on the floor.

Thiago Henderson walked into the living room. He wasn't wearing the orange jumpsuit of a prisoner anymore. He wore a charcoal suit that fit him perfectly. His silver eyes were calm, almost bored.

Henry jumped up, knocking over a glass. "You! I told you to get out! The police are on their way to arrest you for trespassing!"

Thiago didn't stop. He walked to the center of the room and tossed a thick stack of legal papers onto the coffee table.

"Read the third page, Henry," Thiago said. His voice was low and smooth. "The court has appointed a 'Debt Observer' to live on the property. Since I am the lead representative for the company that owns your mortgage, I’ll be staying in the east guest wing."

Bernadette let out a shrill, hysterical laugh. "You? Living here? You’re a janitor! You’re a convict! You think because you stole a nice suit and found a lawyer, you can sit at our table?"

"I don't want to sit at your table, Bernadette," Thiago said, looking around the room with disgust. "I've seen cleaner cells in Iron-Gate. I'm just here to make sure you don't steal the silverware on your way out."

Henry stomped over to Thiago, his face turning red. He was shorter than Thiago, and he had to look up to meet his eyes. "You think you're a big man now? You're still the same trash that went to jail for a crime you couldn't even hide. You're a loser, Thiago. A lucky loser."

Thiago leaned in, his shadow falling over Henry. "If I'm a loser, Henry, then what does that make you? You're currently living in a house owned by a man you hate, eating food bought with money you don't have, and begging for a merger that will never happen."

"Get out!" Bernadette screamed, throwing her wine glass at him.

Thiago didn't even flinch as the glass shattered against the wall behind him. He looked at the red stain on the white wallpaper.

"That’s a fine for property damage," Thiago said coldly. "I'll add it to your bill."

He walked out of the house heading to his place to blow off some steam after seeing them at their lowest.

The ride did not take up to 20 minutes, Thiago walked toward the stairs, heading for the guest wing. He passed the kitchen, where a small, thin figure was scrubbing the floor in the dark.

It was Tamia.

His heart twisted. His little sister, the girl who used to laugh at his jokes, was now a ghost. Her hair was pulled back tightly, and her hands were raw from bleach. She didn't even look up as he passed.

"Tamia," he whispered.

She froze. Her shoulders shook for a second. Then, she looked up. Her eyes were blank, like a doll’s.

"The floor must be clean for the Master," she said in a flat, hollow voice. "Please don't step on the wet spots, sir. Miss Bernadette will hit me again."

Thiago clenched his fists so hard his knuckles turned white. He wanted to grab her and run. He wanted to scream her name until she remembered him. But he knew the drugs they gave her were strong. If he pushed too hard, her mind might break forever.

"I won't step on them, Tamia," Thiago said, his voice shaking with suppressed rage. "I promise."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small piece of chocolate wrapped in gold foil. He placed it on the counter near her.

"Eat that when they aren't looking," he said. "It's a gift from a friend."

Tamia looked at the chocolate, then back at him. For a split second, a tiny spark appeared in her eyes. "Friend?" she whispered.

"Yes," Thiago said. "A very old friend."

He was told by the doctors not to interrupt her when she is in this state, and he feels helpless that he cannot do anything than watch his sister suffer and work hard to find a cure

****

Upstairs, Henry and Bernadette were in their bedroom, the door locked.

"He's up to something," Henry hissed. "He’s watching us. He’s going to find the files on David."

"Then we move David tonight," Bernadette said, her voice trembling. "If Thiago finds out the 'Ghost' is still alive in that warehouse, he'll kill us both. Call the guards at the Jersey dock. Tell them to get the boy ready for transport. We're moving him to the island."

"And what about Thiago?" Henry asked.

Bernadette looked at the door. Her eyes were full of venom. "He thinks he's the observer? Fine. Let him observe what happens when a house catches fire in the middle of the night. Convicts don't survive twice."

Down the hall, in the dark guest room, Thiago sat on the edge of the bed. He wasn't sleeping. He had a small earpiece in, connected to the bugs he had planted in their room months ago.

He heard everything.

He heard the mention of the Jersey dock. He heard the mention of "the boy."

Thiago stood up and walked to the window. He looked out at the dark New York skyline. His phone vibrated in his hand. It was a text from an unknown number.

[The Asset is moving. 1:00 AM.]

Thiago grabbed his jacket. He didn't use the stairs. He climbed out the window and disappeared into the night, He had to find out who the boy was.