Alana’s irritation flared. Enzo Presgrave was causing more trouble than he was worth.
Later that evening, Alana stood by the floor-to-ceiling window of her office, the city lights casting a soft glow over her pensive face. With a deep breath, she picked up her phone and dialed a number she hadn’t called in years.
“Hello? Who is this?” The voice on the other end was familiar yet distant.
Alana’s voice trembled as she answered, “Daddy, it’s me. It’s Alana.”
There was a long pause before Francisco’s voice softened with emotion. “Alana? Where have you been all these years? I’ve been searching for you.”
Tears welled in Alana’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Dad. I’ve been abroad, trying to build a life. But I’m back now.”
Francisco’s voice cracked with relief. “It doesn’t matter. As long as you’re safe. When will you come home?”
“In a couple of days,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Alana, I’m sorry for everything,” Francisco said, his guilt heavy in his words. “I should never have…”
“Let’s forget the past, Dad,” Alana interrupted, her heart aching. “What matters is that we’re talking now.”
“Come home soon, okay?” Francisco’s voice was filled with hope.
After hanging up, Alana stared at the phone in her hand. Though she had promised to visit, the thought of returning to that house filled her with dread.
The next morning, Lucio arrived at her office carrying a sleek black box. He placed it on her desk with a flourish, saying, “Alana, this is for you.”
She raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”
“It’s a gift from President Presgrave. Cloud Residence—a luxury mansion. It is fully furnished and ready for you to move in. Isn’t it incredible?” Lucio beamed, clearly impressed.
Alana’s gaze hardened. “Take it back.”
Lucio blinked, stunned. “What? You’re joking, right? This is an amazing privilege—”
“I said, take it back,” Alana repeated, her tone icy. “Tell President Presgrave I don’t need special treatment.”
Lucio hesitated, his enthusiasm faltering under her stern gaze. Reluctantly, he picked up the box and left.
Francisco returned home at the Tavares residence with a rare smile on his face. “Noemi, guess who called today?”
His wife looked up from the television, her expression indifferent. “Who?”
“Alana. She’s back,” Francisco said, his voice tinged with joy.
Noemi’s face darkened, resentment flickering in her eyes. “Why are you happy about that? She embarrassed you. She doesn’t belong here.”
“It’s been years,” Francisco argued. “People make mistakes. Maybe we misunderstood her.”
“Misunderstood?” Noemi scoffed. “Erica had proof. Alana disgraced this family. Don’t let her come back and ruin everything.”
Francisco sighed, retreating upstairs, unwilling to continue the argument. Meanwhile, Noemi picked up her phone and dialed Erica.
“Mom?” Erica answered.
“Your sister’s back,” Noemi said coldly. “We need to make sure she doesn’t cause trouble.”
“Don’t worry, Mom. I got rid of her once. I can do it again.” Erica’s voice dripped with confidence.
Noemi’s lips curled into a bitter smile. “Good. She won’t take anything from us.”
Last updated on August 20th, 2025 at 11:21 pm
