Chapter 3
Humphrey met Nina’s question with practiced case, his composed smile never wavering “Conspiring with kidnappers at eight years old?”
He spread his hands in a gesture of innocence. “I only wanted to like my baby sister out to play. One moment’s distraction was all it took.” His voice softened with calculated regret. “I was for young to understand the dangers lurking in broad sdaylight.”
He added as he caught her eyes, “Let me make it up to you, Nin Give your foolish brother another chance?
Nina held her tongue, mentally reviewing Clifford’s dossier. Her eldest brother had registered an IQ of 300 at a adult cunning wrapped in a child’s dimples. The idea of him being blind to danger rang hollow,
O at age five, his
But what’s the point? she mused. She’d clawed her way through those years regardless. Once this assignment wrapped, she’d be back at the Special Operations Division where she belonged.
“Ancient history,” she said with a dismissive shrug. “Water under the bridge.”
Something dark rippled beneath Humphrey’s carefully maintained expression as he studied her face, but his trademark smile snapped back into place.
He draped one arm around her shoulders with calculated casualness. “Il arrange a proper family dinner–Dad and all your brothers. A real homecoming
Whatever works for you,” she said flatly.
In the sitting room below, Jessica rubbed her injured leg while wiping away tears, her voice thick with worry. “Mom, what are we going to do? Humphrey’s already taken her side. If Dad and the other brothers start protecting that bitch too, my life will be ruined!”
“Mind your tone. Rachel’s sharp rebuke carried genuine concern. “You’re an heiress, darling, not some street vendor. Don’t let her drag you down to her level
“But–Jessica pressed her lips into a thin line.
Rachel’s fingers smoothed her daughter’s hair. “Your auntie’s death left a scar on your dad’s soul that will never heal. He’ll see through her act. And your brothers? She cost them their mother. How could they possibly show her any kindness?”
“Then explain Humphrey’s sudden change of heart. The words burst from Jessica with raw frustration.
Every overture she’d made toward her eldest brother had been met with perfect manners and absolute distance. That pleasant mask hid a glacier–she’d always known he’d never truly count her as family.
Rachel’s sigh held genuine uncertainty. “That boy’s mind is a maze I’ve never mapped.”
The family story was legend: their perpetually smiling golden child had shattered completely when his mother died. Logic dictated he should be their returned sister’s fiercest opponent.
No one could figure out the reason for this elaborate show of brotherly devotion. But Humphrey’s thoughts lay behind walls too high to scale. Rachel had learned the hard way not to probe those depths.
“My leg still needs justice.” Jessica’s voice cracked as she gestured to the doctor’s wrapping. Hairline fractures–weeks of recovery ahead.
“Your dad won’t let this stand.” Rachel’s voice hardened with conviction. “Whatever game your brothers play, he’ll see you
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Jessica’s fingers clenched into fists. “He needs to throw her out the street where she belongs. This family has one princess —and it’s not some charity case trying to steal my place!”
Alone in her new room, Nina stretched across the velvet sheets, king in every detail of her gilded cage. The opulent space stood in stark contrast to her usual quarters.
When she was young, she was locked in a small, dark cell, emerging only for whatever experiment awaited. Then, back to the darkness again.
The Special Operations Division had offered little improvemen—four narrow beds to a room, every movement tracked, every hour scheduled. Eighteen years of drills, missions, and absolute control. She’d learned to find comfort in that rigid framework.
Now, this sudden freedom felt more confining than any cell.
Her phone’s buzz offered a welcome interruption. “Hello, she answered.
“How’s your life at home, Nina Clifford’s familiar warmth carried a hint of amusement.
“Not bad,” she replied.
“Excellent. I have a mission for you tonight,” he said.
Her spine straightened automatically. “What is it?”
His low chuckle held genuine appreciation. “Time for our master of oil painting to grace the world with another masterpiece.”
Next door, Humphrey pressed his phone to his ear, voice perfectly modulated. “Dad, your long–lost daughter’s home. Surely that deserves a family dinner?”
“Auction tonight. Can’t miss it.” Darrell Woods’s clipped tone carried years of cultivated indifference.
“More pressing than your own flesh and blood?” Humphrey let just enough challenge color the words.
“That child means nothing to me. Your presence is sufficient.” After a weighted pause, he continued, “Besides, this is crucial. Ms. Morisot will be creating live tonight.”
“Berthe Morisot? The artistic genius of the decade?” Real interest crept into Humphrey’s voice before he caught himself with a theatrical sigh. “What a pity. If Nina hadn’t come back. I’d definitely have joined in the fun myself,”
SEND GIFT
