My car sped along the winding road until the familiar iron-wrought gates came into sight. As I approached, I felt a slight relief, the feeling of home. The car came to a halt, and I saw the golden crown of our family crest split into two as the gates opened, welcoming me back. My mind was still preoccupied with images of the woman from the restaurant, her soft lips and hypnotizing eyes lingering in my thoughts. I drove past the vast expanse of freshly mowed grass, the scent of fresh-cut greenery wafting through the car vents.

Through the tinted glass, I noticed the dozen gardeners manicuring the hedges and watering the plants. They stopped their work to salute as my car sped into the property, their uniforms neat and pristine. Slowing down, I rolled the windows down, acknowledging their gestures with a wave and a nod, appreciating their diligence in maintaining the estate's beauty. The familiar sight of the heavily guarded property, with its high walls and watchful eyes, brought a sense of security that I rarely found elsewhere. Especially in our line of work.

The sound of gravel crunching beneath the tires signaled my arrival at the front of the main house at the end of the wide driveway. I opened the door of my black Ferrari 488 GTB and was immediately greeted by loud barking. "Hey, buddy!" I exclaimed, kneeling to the ground to greet Zeus, my new Doberman pup. His sleek, black coat glistened in the afternoon sun as he bounded toward me, his tail wagging furiously. I ruffled his ears and let him lick my face, laughing at his exuberance.

Zeus had been a recent addition to my life and his loyalty was a constant reminder of the importance of companionship. As I played with him, a smile came onto my face and for the first time in the day, I felt at peace.

As Kline, the head of security, meticulously ensured that my custom-made car was returned to its designated spot in the garage alongside my collection of sports cars, I made my way into the main house. Zeus happily trotted behind me, his paws gently tapping against the floor of the porch. He took a brief pause to drink from the central fountain at the entrance as the water cascaded down the several tiers, then rejoined me with a wagging tail. I laughed as he shook his head vigorously, his saliva splattering across my clothes.

The front door was made of heavy oak, reinforced with iron. Something that my mother had insisted on getting done. The smell of cinnamon and vanilla welcomed me as I entered the comfort of my home. I immediately made a bee-line for the source.

As I approached the kitchen, I heard my mother's voice, slightly annoyed but laced with a hint of affection.

"Oh stop it, Daniel. You're distracting me."

I paused just outside the doorway, leaning casually against one of the marble pillars that framed the entrance. From this vantage point, I had a perfect view of my parents' interaction and couldn't resist a grin.

"Weren't complaining ten minutes ago. What changed now?" My father's voice carried a playful note as he wrapped his arms around my mother from behind. She was attempting to pull a tray of cookies out of the oven, but his embrace made the task more challenging.

Mum shot a glance over her shoulder, trying to hide her smile. "You're a terrible distraction. And I'm trying not to burn these cookies."

I shifted slightly to get a better view, my curiosity piqued. The kitchen was bathed in the warm glow of overhead lights, and the cookies, still on their tray, seemed to sparkle with promise. Mum was always so meticulous about baking them just right, a skill she'd perfected over the years. The scent alone was enough to lure me.

Dad chuckled softly, his arms still wrapped around her. "Well, maybe if you let me help instead of getting all flustered, we wouldn't have this problem."

Mom shook her head, though her irritation was clearly more teasing than genuine. "I've got this, thank you. Just stay out of the way and let me finish."

I cleared my throat at this point, worried that the situation would escalate into something I would regret witnessing. Dad's playful demeanor shifted almost immediately. He straightened his impeccably tailored suit and adjusted his tie, his usual air of authority returning.

"Ah Conrad!" Mum walks towards me delightedly, hugging me with her apron still on. I embraced her back, kissing the top of her head as it rested against my chest. The moment is short lived as she pulled back and inspected the front of my shirt.

She raised an eyebrow and turned back with a smirk to look at my father who was struggling to hold his laugh.

I rolled my eyes annoyed. "Alright, get it out." The kitchen is filled with my parents laughter as they laugh over my appearance.

"I'm guessing Nate filled you in?"

Dad nods his head, throwing it back heartily laughing as he holds Mum. "How did she even come into the restaurant?"

I groaned reminiscing the afternoon's scene. "Greg Conrad."

"That bastard?!" Dad eyes widened in disbelief as his chuckles slowly came to a stop. "Don't tell me you let him in."

"I didn't. Mum did." I stared at my mother squinting my eyes wondering why she would do such a thing.

"Oh come on!" She threw her hands into the air. "He's not that bad."

"Skye, I told you to let him go. He's a dumb little toad. You never should've hired him anyways." Dad said, annoyed with his wife's decisions. He'd trust her blindly with regard to decisions for the clan and business, but anything that had to do with Hallie or that lousy brother of hers, he despised.

At one point, he even suspected she'd named me after them. It took two bullets in the wall for him to let that conversation go. Even he knew Mum never missed.

In her defense, she'd known Greg's sister, Hallie for ages. They'd grown up together and it was actually at Hallie's party that my parents had met. Mum was simply returning the favor by granting him an hour's time in the restaurant before it opened.

"Cut him some slack. He's just... naive." Mum shrugged her shoulders closing the oven and removing her apron.

"Well Mr. Naive called them call girls, gave them a bunch of cash and invited them to his hotel room." I said, dropping my suit jacket over the marble island counter.

"He did not!" My mom put her hand on her hips in disbelief. Dad ran a hand over his face and groaned. His eyes narrowing as he switched from the jovial father to the authoritative mafia boss.

"Well he did. Now apparently, I'm a misogynist who can't keep it in his pants." I folded my arms over my chest signifying my vexation with the entire situation.

"Let that be now," he said, his tone becoming more professional and stern. The shift in his demeanor was palpable, his previous playfulness now replaced by a cold, calculated seriousness.

"What happened with Dalary?" he asked, his voice void of any warmth.

"He's been dealt with," I replied, my face expressionless, matching the gravity of the situation.

"Good riddance. I'm proud of you, son," He said, strongly patting me on the shoulder. There was a rare softness in his voice, a fleeting moment of paternal pride breaking through his hardened exterior. I nodded sharply, acknowledging his compliment.

"I almost forgot!" Mum clapped her hands together before pushing Dad out of her way to stand in front of me. Dad leaned against the island top with a knowing smile on his face, observing our interaction with amusement. I noticed how seamlessly he transitioned back into his carefree self.

"I need you to come with me tomorrow morning."

"Where?" I asked, suspicious of her sudden demand. She took my hands in hers, her eyes never leaving mine, persuasive and determined.

"A boutique. I need your help with my dress for the anniversary party. I'm going to meet the designer and I want you to come along."

"You're joking right?" I retracted my hands, crossing them across my chest. "Besides, I've got more important things to do."

"Don't worry about that. I'll take care of it. You can accompany your mother tomorrow." I glared at my father as he teamed up with Mum.

"See. All taken care of. What do you say?" She batted her eyes with a wide smile.

"Ugh. Fine." I groaned with a defeated sigh.

"Now you boys better get ready or we'll be late for the inauguration."

"And you better put away those cookies before Zeus knocks them down," I said, already knowing what was coming. Sure enough, the sound of paws skidding on the tile floor echoed through the house. Mum looked behind her back just in time to see the mischievous pup stretching his lean body up against the counter, his nose twitching with excitement.

She spun around, her eyes wide with panic as Zeus snagged a cookie with his teeth. "Zeus, no!" she cried, swatting at him with her apron. Zeus darted away, the cookie clutched triumphantly in his mouth, tail wagging furiously.

"Would you look at that," Mom gasped, glancing at her watch. Her hands flew to her head, pulling her hair into a messy bun. "It's three already. We need to leave the house by five at least. Understand?"

Dad and I nodded, both of us suppressing smiles. Mum was in full-on party mode, and there was no stopping her now.

"Guests start arriving at six. Don't forget your ties!" she called over her shoulder as she disappeared from the kitchen, her footsteps echoing down the hallway.

I turned to Dad, who was now massaging his temples with a resigned sigh. "You heard her. Don't be late."

"Roger."

The rest of the day went in the blink of the eye. The restaurant's inauguration went as planned. My father effortlessly mingled with the elite of the city, a glass of aged whiskey in his hands and my mother by his side; who equally engaged our guests with elegance. By the end of the night, we had solidified our relationships and made new connections with potential partners.

The morning light filtered through the large windows of the estate, casting a soft glow over the breakfast table where I sat, pushing my eggs around in the plate. I was too drained from last nights party to even pay attention to the world.

My mother was already dressed in an elegant yet casual outfit, her eyes bright with the promise of a day out. How is she not tired?

"Come on darling, I promised we'd be there by ten," she said with an encouraging smile as she sipped her coffee.

"I'm too tired Mum." I confessed, scraping the last bit of toast from my plate.

"Rubbish. You'll have fun. Come on now."

"I'd rather stay here honestly."

"CONRAD MAXWELL!" I jumped out of my chair, a hand on my chest. I even see Zeus get startled from his deep sleep.

What the fuck?

"Get in the car right now."

"On it."

As soon as we entered the boutique, Mum disappeared behind the many racks of clothes, her practiced hands inspecting the fabric and testing its durability. She was always meticulous, ensuring every piece she bought met her high standards. Left on my own, I wandered toward the cream-colored walls adorned with pictures and framed quotes, attempting to entertain myself as she delved into her fashion ritual. But before I could take a good look, I got distracted.

"Calm down, Leah. Just ask him how deep he can go."

The voice snagged my attention, familiar yet out of place in this upscale boutique. I turned my head slightly, trying to pinpoint its source without seeming too obvious.

"What? How are you wet already? Did he even go in?" The conversation was more than intriguing, and I spun around, eager to learn the identity of the speaker. In my haste, my shoulder collided with a person.

Her phone flew out from between her ear and shoulder, and she instinctively grabbed onto my collar for balance, her hands stained with some sort of red dye. I managed to steady her before she hit the floor, her brown hair sweeping back to reveal a pair of familiar brown eyes. Recognition dawned on me, but it was quickly overshadowed by the sight of the red marks smeared across my crisp white shirt.

"Bloody fucking hell," I muttered under my breath. I really needed to stop wearing white shirts.

Without another thought, I released her, letting her drop the remaining foot to the ground. She landed with a soft thud, eyes wide in shock and a hint of embarrassment.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

END OF CHAPTER FOUR: SCARLET EVIDENCE
2197 words

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