Chapter 7: The Uninvited Guest
It was a rainy Tuesday afternoon when the doorbell rang at the Vance estate.
Amy opened the door, expecting a package delivery. Instead, she found a man standing on the porch under a large black umbrella. He wore a worn denim jacket, his hair was messy, and his eyes carried a wild, desperate look.
Amy’s heart stopped. The color drained from her face.
""Mark?"" she whispered, taking a step back.
""Hey, Ames,"" the man said, a crooked smile appearing on his face. ""Long time no see. Nice place you got here. Looks a lot better than the trailer park back in Ohio.""
Mark was Amy’s elder brother—a man who had spent his entire adult life chasing bad schemes, gambling debts, and blaming the world for his failures. Three years ago, before Amy met Julian, Mark had stolen her small savings and disappeared, leaving her to pay off his debts.
""What are you doing here?"" Amy asked, her voice trembling as she tried to keep her composure.
""I saw you on the news,"" Mark said, pushing his way past the threshold into the grand foyer, wiping his muddy boots on the clean marble floor. ""Marrying a billionaire. Forgot all about your poor old brother, didn't you?""
""I didn't forget anything, Mark,"" Amy said coldly, holding her ground. ""You stole from me. You left me with nothing.""
""Water under the bridge, sis,"" Mark laughed insincerely, looking around at the chandeliers and artwork. ""Look at you now! Living like a queen. I’m in a bit of a tight spot, Ames. I owe some dangerous guys back home fifty grand. A drop in the bucket for your husband.""
""No,"" Amy said firmly. ""I am not giving you Julian’s money.""
Mark’s smile vanished, replaced by a dark, sinister threat. ""You think you're safe here? A private investigator came to see me yesterday, Ames. A lady named Eleanor hired him. She paid me five hundred bucks just to tell her about your past—about Dad’s bankruptcy, my record, and how you worked two illegal jobs to pay off my debts.""
May you like
Amy gasped. Eleanor was digging into her family.
""Now, you can give me the money,"" Mark leaned in close, his voice a nasty whisper, ""or I go straight to Eleanor and sell her every piece of dirty laundry our family ever had. How will your rich husband like that?""
