Chapter 14 - The Midnight Knock
It was midnight when the security gate at the front of our estate buzzed sharply.
Marcus and I were sitting by the stone fireplace in the library, reading through architectural blueprints for the new pediatric wing, when the intercom on the mahogany desk chimed.
"Mrs. Wellington," the security guard's voice crackled through the speaker. "There’s... someone at the outer security gate. He’s refusing to leave. He says his name is Trent Collier, and he insists on speaking to you personally."
Marcus lowered his blueprint, his blue eyes narrowing slightly. "Do you want me to have them clear him from the property?"
I set my reading glasses down on the table, listening to the soft crackle of the fire. "No. Let him through to the front porch. But keep the cameras rolling."
Ten minutes later, the front doorbell chimed—not with the confident authority of Marcus’s arrival months ago, but with a hesitant, ragged tap.
I opened the door myself.
Trent stood on the porch under the amber porch light, shivering in the freezing February air. He wasn't wearing an overcoat; just a light sweater, his breath pluming white in the dark. His hair was uncombed, and his eyes were red-rimmed and desperate.
"Claudia," he whispered, his voice cracking. "Please. Just... give me five minutes."
"It's freezing out here, Trent," I said, my voice entirely devoid of warmth. "And you aren't wearing boots."
He swallowed hard, looking down at his thin leather loafers caked in frozen mud. "I lost the apartment today. The bank foreclosed on the commercial office. I have nowhere to go, Claudia. Everyone I knew in this city has blocked my number. You... you have a foundation. You help people who have nothing. Please."
I crossed my arms against the chill, looking at the man who had stood in our warm kitchen fourteen months ago and told me he didn't love me anymore.
"I help people who are trying to stand back up, Trent," I said quietly. "Not people who are just looking for someone else to carry their weight."
"I made a mistake!" he cried, a desperate tear freezing on his cheek. "An eight-month mistake that ruined my entire life! I'll do anything—I'll work for your foundation, I'll clean the floors, I'll—"
May you like
"You can start by walking," I interrupted. "Just like I walked home that night in my socks. You'll manage."
Before he could answer, I closed the heavy oak door, locking it firmly behind me.
