Chapter 3 - The Family Breakfast
At 7:45 the following morning, the grand dining room of my estate was filled with the warm, rich scent of freshly brewed espresso, cinnamon rolls, and smoked bacon.
The long mahogany table—a piece of furniture I had hand-selected three years ago—was covered in fine bone china, sterling silver cutlery, and crystal stemware. My mother sat at the head of the table like a queen presiding over her court, wearing an expensive pearl necklace and a tailored emerald suit.
Beside her sat my sister, Chloe, draped in a designer silk robe that belonged to Mariana, casually sipping orange juice while browsing a luxury yacht catalog on her tablet.
Around the table sat my Uncle Richard, my Aunt Clara, and Father Thomas, the senior pastor from my mother's congregation.
"Evelyn, this estate is simply breathtaking," Aunt Clara gushed, buttering a hot croissant. "Julian has truly built a kingdom for the Vance family."
Evelyn beamed with supreme pride, taking a delicate sip of her tea. "Thank you, Clara. Julian works tirelessly, of course. But a house like this requires proper leadership to maintain its dignity. Sadly, not everyone in this family possesses the refinement required to manage such a legacy."
Uncle Richard frowned slightly. "Where is Mariana this morning? I haven't seen her since I arrived last night."
Chloe let out a dramatic, rehearsed sigh from across the table. "Oh, Uncle Richard... it's so heartbreaking. Mariana hasn't been feeling like herself lately. She's been extremely distant, spending all her time locked away in the back rooms. We've tried so hard to include her, but she just... refuses to integrate with the family."
"It's true," Evelyn added, setting her teacup down with a sharp clink. "Her mental health has declined severely over the past few months. She’s become completely incapable of handling household responsibilities or managing finances. In fact, that is precisely why I asked you all here today."
I stood silently in the upper balcony gallery, looking down through the wooden balusters at the dining room below. I had slipped into the house through the basement an hour ago, wearing a sharp charcoal suit, listening to every toxic word spilling from my mother's mouth.
My mother gestured to a leather folder resting beside her plate.
"Julian is currently in Chicago," Evelyn continued, her voice dripping with fake sorrow. "He is far too busy and heartbroken to deal with this delicate situation himself. Therefore, as the matriarch of this family, I stepped in to protect my son's hard-earned assets."
Father Thomas leaned forward, looking concerned. "What do you mean, Evelyn?"
"Mariana has recognized her own inability to manage this estate," Evelyn lied smoothly, placing her hand over the leather folder. "Yesterday, she voluntarily signed over her legal power of attorney to Chloe and me. She has agreed to relinquish all claims to this property and relocate to a quiet care facility in New Mexico for her own recovery."
Uncle Richard looked stunned. "She signed over her power of attorney? Voluntarily?"
"Yes," Chloe declared loudly, flashing a brilliant, fake smile. "She realized she was a burden to Julian. Starting today, I will be taking over the management of the master suite and the estate operations. We're doing this out of love for Julian, to ensure he returns to a peaceful home."
"How wonderfully generous of you both," Aunt Clara gasped, completely swallowing the lie.
Down the long hallway leading from the kitchen, a quiet sound echoed.
The swing door pushed open.
Mariana stepped into the dining room. She was wearing a simple, high-necked navy dress, her hair pulled back into a neat, elegant knot. She wore no jewelry, no makeup, but she walked with an upright, majestic posture that instantly commanded the room.
The chatter around the table died down immediately.
Evelyn’s face darkened with instant fury. "Mariana! What are you doing out here? I told you specifically to remain in your quarters until our guests had departed."
Mariana stopped at the foot of the long dining table, looking straight at my mother.
"This is my dining room, Evelyn," Mariana said softly, her voice calm and crystal clear. "I don't take orders from guests in my own home."
Chloe slammed her glass down onto the table, orange juice sloshing over the white tablecloth. "You crazy bitch! How dare you speak to Mom like that after everything she’s done for you! Show some respect or I'll have security drag you out to the street!"
"Security?" Mariana asked, raising an eyebrow with quiet amusement. "You mean the security team whose salaries are paid by the estate's operating trust?"
"Enough of this disgraceful drama!" Evelyn barked, standing up from her chair, her face flushed red with anger. She snatched the leather folder from the table and held it up in the air. "Mariana, your opinion no longer matters here! I have the signed legal power of attorney right here in my hand! You surrendered your rights! You have thirty minutes to collect your cardboard boxes from the maid's room and leave my son's property forever!"
"Is that so?" Mariana asked softly.
"It is!" Evelyn yelled, turning to Father Thomas and Uncle Richard. "You see what we’ve been dealing with?! She’s completely unhinged!"
"She's not unhinged, Mother," a voice echoed from the grand staircase.
Everyone turned their heads toward the balcony.
I stepped slowly down the carpeted stairs, my hand resting casually in my pocket, my eyes locked directly onto my mother's horrified face.
Evelyn’s eyes went wide as saucers. The leather folder in her hand shook visibly.
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"Julian...?" Evelyn whispered, her voice losing all its power. "You... you're in Chicago..."
"I was," I said, stepping into the dining room, stopping right beside my wife, and reaching out to wrap my fingers firmly around Mariana's hand. "But I decided to come home early to see my new home manager."
